Late August


The sky breathes ripped dark cloth,
presses the gravity column down
clumsily onto my head. And I swear
I heard a snigger in the moment
before we felt the first fat drops.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Following the Wheel

With such a weight of pencils, drab and bolstered - scribbled histories from then to now - now squatting on your fragile shoulders I'll talk of intricately rented worlds and how such brilliant and fresh-laid concepts shattered plate glass thinking way back when. We'll scuttle - frantic like the sugared insect - and overegg ideas from now to then.
Read more

So Farewell Then, 2020

  You burst in brutal, full of fire, Consuming property and life. The world was watching, thinking "Christ! At least it's all downhill from here!" And then a thing occurred and, well, Thank God the men in suits stood firm And acted fast and quashed the germ And everybody felt just swell. That takes us up to New Year's Eve Of such an uneventful year. Embrace the ones you hold most dear, Remember warmly those you grieve.
Read more

For World Book Day

'There's more to life than books, you know', Young Morrissey once said, 'But not much more.' That killer blow. Behold! - a page turned, read. There's love and sex and racquet sports And chocolate and sleep, And music, drumming, filthy thoughts - That look before you leap. There's painting, nature, words that rhyme, The friend you haven't seen; A perfect goal in extra time - Awaking from a dream. I haven't even mentioned cake Or sipping single malt, Or knowing that you nailed that take. The flowers that you bought. I've often seen more shade than light - A melancholic soul. But life can be a bloody riot, Your cup can overflow! There's more to life than books for sure, But books cast magic spells; They help show Death we're so much more Than processes and cells.
Read more