Sudden as love it’s eight thirty.
Two & a half hours faffabout
oiling de railleur on rusted bikes;
clearing the drain with willow and prunes;
mumbling out of turn on the chain gang.
Serene cupidities conspire
Wilfully, making sense sensitive.
Hours with feet up.
Doing the log thing.
Eight a night
Five a day
For a week
Brown and sultry planning permissions
Granted! Today we sail on Braintree.