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Confusion ©

Baba
Stewarton, Scotland
2004

My mind is like a train wreck, confused in disarray
I've got thoughts that crash about: drunkenly they sway
Sometimes as I pin one down it ups and slips away
Elusive little devils and the crafty tricks they play

I try to grab a hold of one that's slower than the rest
But looks can be deceiving and I miss the little pest
I just can't seem to step on it though I really try my best
It's just like all the others, wriggling vipers in a nest

I cannot seem to separate the good ones from the bad
It drives me to distraction: it really makes me mad
I track one down, determinedly, which makes me rather glad
I think I've got the gist of it, then realise I've been had

They swim around muttering, inside my little head
I never seem to get to hear exactly what's been said
I strain to filter out the crowd to see where I'll be led
Up some narrow road, of course, whose end is always dead

And so they rumble on and on, some babbling little brook
I'm fishing trying to catch one, but I haven't got a hook
Sneaky little slippery eels they don't play by the book
And if, by chance, I land one, it's regarded as a fluke

This goes on for hours and hours inside my mushy brain
They roam about like wildebeest upon a dusty plain
And when that dust has settled and I'm back to being sane
I wonder what I'd thought about and off I go again


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