The doggy few air the southern mist lands…
Some slept through till daylight coloured the drapes
Grey Pink.
Warm still, fuggy, muggy, stuffy, musty
Climate.
Through slate grey light I fly safe, glide slow up
To here,
The bureau of dreams, absorbing the news,
Sneeze wildly, snuffle, drip, and wet wipe off.
Excess.
Smoke pause and coffee slug
Curtain sloped out window
Sucked out, outsuck drag.
Shit! Banged red exposed elbow.
Smokestained drapes: salmon peach,
Tucked comfortably in twixt
bizzy-lizzy and big green shiny pot
imagine it plonked on silver beach
the shadows lengthen, sunbathers are vexed
some move, some curl up cold, and some do not.
Little happens slow
Somebody knows.