bop

by grimbeau

Touched
by a
film of frost,
th e
chill cascades
Waspishly
fro m the fanlight
Squirts
Little nips
O f morning,
Bikini weather.
Motorway pile up
neuronal
city women
fret more
about how
they look
than wee fish do.

Pastel shy-blue, sky-blue
off beige clouds

Twenty eight thousand
Miles out
just now

A space boulder passed
by my
Shoulder.