
There’s a hole in my ceiling.
It appeared in a shower of soggy plaster at two in the morning,
thank you, the plumber who couldn’t see the pipework he was soldering.
Now it gapes at me, streamers of ceiling paper ripped apart by weight of water
from such a tiny drip.
I do not know how it will get fixed. Or who will fix it.
Already, I’m in danger of forgetting it’s there.
It’s amazing what you can get used to.
There’s a hole in my planet, a land-slipping crater, the stuff of nightmares. Into it
falls species after species, scrabbling at the edge as the crater gets wider.
Few get out. Few are rescued.
They slip unseen. They fall. Out of sight at the core of the vortex, they join
the bones jangling amid the soup of ruined soil and despoiled seas.
Some measure the crater. They scream
the edge is getting closer and closer
to where this dysfunctional, bipedal, insensate species hovers.
Most look away. The party must go on.
We will not notice the crumbling quicksand.
It’s amazing what you can get used to.
There’s a hole in our lives.
Our patterns and expectations slashed and cloven, our hopes
pulverised. Into this fearful emptiness creeps something tiny and unseen.
It carries fear. It divides us more than it unites us,
provokes discord, brings us down. We look around
to see where our thwarted plans, our comfortable habits, our dreams, have gone.
Where are our friends? Where are our grandparents?
The children we cannot see growing up?
Where is tomorrow? Our bodies are under attack.
Our minds turn backwards, inwards, away.
It’s amazing what you can get used to.
There’s a hole in my ceiling. I sweep up plaster dust.
But it won’t go away.

Thank you….
Sustainable Development Goals
2030
“ dodging the meteor”!!
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Indeed! Weird though…after writing this yesterday morning, a multi-skilled employee of the company came along, and by 5pm the hole was gone! Second coat of plaster and decorating to do , but no hole. Yet.
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Apart from people at work, shopkeepers, and my brother, I have seen NOBODY I know since well before Christmas. I am now “on holiday” for a fortnight, locked up by total lockdown. This is just so good for my physical and mental health… Not.
I am, in my spare time, a musician. That’s someone who thrives on social contact, as do the young in their lives. There is a limit to how long anyone can cope with this absurd situation. I despair for musicians everywhere. Music has completely disappeared. For many musicians, it is their only talent, expression, and means of making a living, yet they will be ruined and unable to return to it because the pubs and venues will have collapsed.
There is a hole in my possibly useless flutes.
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Ah Mark I feel for you. This winter hasn’t helped.Music, concerts, plays, cinemas, exhibitions, installations… creativity…we can’t lose it.Keep playing your flute. I suspect mine has gone rusty, which is probably a good thing given my musical ineptitude. Take care. Even the hole in my ceiling’s on the way to being fixed.
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You brought to my mind a famous Beatles number, “Fixing A Hole” which us on the Sergeant Pepper’s album. Get your rusty flute out, derust it and have a go!
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I can get a note out! Not sure what the note is…..
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If you decide to start playing again, get the flute serviced by a decent repairer. Try playing all the notes before making your mind up. It’s difficult to learn again on an instrument which isn’t playing well. A fully functional flute makes it a LOT easier.
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There are so many temporary fixes on our farm that I keep telling myself that one day I’ll fix properly. But, sadly, most of them will still be there years from now. It’s amazing what you can get used to.
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And now the hole in the ceiling is vaguely plastered over, I don’t notice that it doesn’t match the rest of the ceiling. Indeed, I was thinking about doing a Michelangelo on it….something with flying pigs maybe?!
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