for whatever it’s worth

it’s cool that you think
I seem happy
from my silly blogs –
the digital diaspora
of my seeming every thought
but that’s clearly bullshit

I think you look happy on facebook too

which is almost certainly
a load of crap

I’m as miserable as I ever was
and as happy too, I suppose,
each fractured day,
the collaged nonsense
of a packaged to be couriered
a meeting which is running over time

and me, late for everything as always
I blame god for the weather
think really petty thoughts all the time
and don’t even mind when my poetry is shit.


By Eleanor Jackson

Eleanor Jackson is a Filipino Australian poet, performer, arts producer, cyclist, writer, gal about town, feminist, freewheeler, and friend.

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