long stretch…

by grimbeau

sentence: ten years solitary :

sins against literature                                                                                                                     Cell No.Fifty-Eight:                                                                                                                                                                    ‘Come hither your time is up!’

Kiss emits a missing hiss,

crumble of balsa

deckchair crackling on dry tea-leaves,                                                                                             the sickly click of elbow

on homespun sugar and the tut-tut-tut of tongue come unstuck on dry  gob roof. Jackdaws! a spat on a chimbley stack silence.

deep breath. Ruby Murray urges go-go-go…woodpigeon bills arrive on time: wait for urgent reminders

picks up pin & writes:

Lubbock