Words fall, sticking fast to my feet – pieces of double-sided stickiness.

I try to pull them off, tugging at them.

Fingers, sticking to words, sticking to my feet.

No way of sorting, assembling or synthesising the words into sentences or

any semblance of sense, or senselessness; and seeing

the futility, feeling sensible and sensitive to the

situation – I give

in. Senseless.



Copyright owned by Jay Cool, March 2019


Inspired by Wilfred Owen’s poem, ‘Futility’.


Image by Clker-Free-Vector-Images on Pixabay





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