A Post Card

by grimbeau

Orifamme burst open dawn canopy back of horse chestnut plantation on the cusp of five-thirty.
opposite this old place, the beige house was dark red and outside here the border hedge  
a defiant pea green the like of which you have never seen before.
After tablet medication, you mulled over the holy thought and avian tweet of the day before 
all things bright and beautiful from the guest Rev Livermore's finest work
got sullied by the sleazy  apocalyptic six o'clock news
As you drank up your coffee you took in the morning congress of robin, pigeon , and sparrow on the
bread strewn table and it raised a smile. Then it was back to the pneumatic bed for daybreak dreams.
You woke to Wimmins Heure; hear small plastic bags are banned and amoral breast implanters from the 
continent havebeen brought to book and must cough up substantial damages.
it amuses you when a tory lady gets berated by fiery emma's cross questions suggest mealy-mouthedness. 
you are still constipated but well read up on derrida getting busted on his
trip to prague in the early seventies (the grounds for his mission to deconstruct the usa?)
as ever your words are not flowing freely; has your twitter inactive account been corrupted? 
I sincerely hope so.