All is vanity, you know, ALL in the long run is but vanity and vexation of spirit.

When I first moved to Hobart in the heady days of the mid-1990s, I used to have to walk up this lane carrying all of my groceries for the week. The lack of shorter alternative routes should explain the voice. Somewhat unwisely though, I also chose to jog up it every second day for "relaxation". It was an odd kind of folly, and demonstrates the extremes that vanity will drive us!

Go on, here's another one minute poem, this time penned at the bus stop.

indignation
get it?
got it.
et cetera

cornered into thinking
specified instructions
yeah...

and she can tell you
every detail

every fucking detail.