Untitled Beckett Fragment #1

I've loved this poem for a long time. Today, I was in a meeting at the dayjob with the marketing department, getting harangued by the events staff to travel for a week and exhibit on behalf of the company. I've worked remotely for the past six months due to, among other things, a growing agoraphobia, doctor verified, and occupational health work plan assisted, backed by the disability act's requirement for reasonable adjustments in the workplace, which they well know about. I thought about this poem, and made this during that meeting, smiling and declining their invitation. One day I'll love to travel again, but I'm damned if it'll be to a conference centre. I miss the beach. But at least I'm on my arse today. 

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