by grimbeau



A funny thing happened the other day, but I missed it.
Troy fell again

it appears
It barely got a mention
With all that was going on
Round here
What with the weather changing

The permanent fishy smell
The limping gormless misfit

As a ballerina in transition
from one side to other there is one question
I get asked above all others
And that is
‘Have you met with much resistance?

I can say hand on heart
‘Little’ without fearful contradiction
But I care not a jot in my summer frock
Running amok
fetching Apricock