Grimbeau

twenty-seven drafts

i ask you

twenty seven drafts

Shut the feckin door!

i ask you

i think you

understand

*

life itself

is so hard

out near here

*

when  the bedouins

bought my sequins

it crossed my mind

something was awry

‘thence i placed

a gingham

tablecloth

on my jihad

and danced

insanely

just like

peter O’TOOLE

for dosh