Home » Poetry » Day 176 – In The Hot Tub

Day 176 – In The Hot Tub

A poem’s just a poem
in the hot tub;
things fall away
mercifully,
the importance of being anything
drowned
in a bubbling respite of the mind.

Trouble is no trouble
in the hot tub;
the discord of thought
to white noise,
my fealty sworn to chlorine
and jets,
and eternal sunshine at last.

Have I found my drug
in the hot tub,
one more method of tempting
strong minds
which sees us snatched up
in euphoria,
forgetting to forget, in bliss?

Or indeed, am I redeemed
in the hot tub,
awarded a way
to protect
a mind which would otherwise
wear itself out
denying that a poem were just a poem?

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