down the pub

are we vessels then?
— or are we poured like water
into the structures
we create out of our own
urgent need to be contained?

Well, last night I found myself down the pub, part of a group of about a dozen people all united around their fondness for a certain member of staff leaving the organisation I work for. For me, it doesn’t happen very often that I lose my sense of individuality by merging into the group mind, but I did have some sense of that yesterday. A group mind is like a shoal of fish, and it’s possible that’s why I dreamed last night of preparing a fish tank for fish — pouring the water in, trying to get it the right temperature, filling the tank with the sort of stuff fish like to eat, thinking ahead to the problem of how to store the fish if the tank needs emptying for any reason. The poem is just a bit too blatant in its philosophizing I fear.

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