Writing on the wall

Sometimes no matter how hard you try you get nowhere...

WRITING ON THE WALL

They say it will be another day tomorrow; but I’m not so sure about that; so I rang the bell for service most extraordinary and got a cardboard box in the post for my troubles.
Anyway, I looked at it for a while to see if it had any microwaves coming out of it, and finding none, I began to write on the wall again.
Tomorrow I will be good, and I will not wear my pyjamas around town in the rain, and of course, I will pay for every freedom I own as it comes to drown me.
Yes, tomorrow will come writing on the wall; and I will be here, waiting for it to come, until all my tomorrows have gone. But, tomorrow is a long time coming.
I wrote more on the wall until there was nothing left to say; and then I moved on to another wall and knocked that down too until there was nothing left in my way; and then I wrote a book about it that left me with the wall that kept coming at me in my way over everything that I would do.
I really wanted to build a big house out in the desert and fade away from it all; but the memories wouldn’t let me go, and with me wanting a pagan kiss n all I was beginning to wonder if there was any dying that was going to get me there.
I couldn’t strip tease this with any more sardines on toast so I did the zigzag on the wall the other way until I was almost there, still waiting to die, and breathing on the horse to go faster.
Some female music star in the bushes whispered that this was so and kept their suspenders under the bed, just to be ready when the call came to scramble.
I couldn’t help but fall in love with the script and began writing on the wall everything I was crying and arrived at another parallel and saw Jesus waving the flag of surrender.
Hey, I said, still writing on the wall, my eyes are broken open now so stop knocking, I’m already in and I’m moving right along.
Nothing was envious about this, and I had a suitable amount of coin to pay whatever greed would arise, so I carried on from border to border until I came across the most fundamental need yet.
As I was staring in between the lines to determine progress, tomorrow came and announced itself as all I’d ever written to here.
So I wrote a bit more: I am brimming in the bottom right hand of the picture of this that’s brimming, and blew a fog horn into the night and left the writing on the wall to go where it would.

Image from me