Made in Heaven
The Dog goes to the old country as the old country goes to the dog
Swifts snatch sleep on camels armed to the teeth with lifelong bags
Something fungal diffuses the rotten air hanging on the wind
Grimbeau
Scroodles
Tag: September Song
September 1, 2017
Modus Vivendi
The day turns
on
fifteen minutes
will he or will she not come?
I have unlocked the door,
fetched out the crap,
brought in the milk.
It is very windy and
the sky threatens rain.
Things that deter unnecessary travel.
Four minutes to eleven.
Looks like a no show.
Make alternative arrangements.
Change tack.
Map out a new course.
A new modus vivendi.
