Poem: Grind

There is no way to keep up with everything.

And yet I still  want to.

Books to read, films to see, music to collect – or not even that, to hear, to have in my  heart – if not on my shelf.

Forgot whatever golden age of TV and whenever that was meant to be

I’m still looking through box-sets of shows that were on before I was born.

There’s really not a whole lo…