Pestle and Mortar

Before I begin
may I ask you
to shrink yourself down:
see yourself
in a mortar
whilst the pestle grinds:
You cannot change any of this.
It is all well and good
to note it down,
but as the hammer grinds
they are too many factors
to swallow down
before we soak up another.

Please, excuse me...
it has been another
one of those
that I shouldn't share,
but friends become nuances
and life cries
for tears.
There is something
in all of them
that seems far away:
To smile or to shrink?

We are ground down
amongst each other...
too many of us
to establish sense.
It goes on
and on
and on
until the impossible chef
loses control
and then,
and only then,
we will be asked
to begin life again
from another
littered floor.