The Cock in the Copse
I read something about a clock,
something about a corpse. Every
thing conspires to become day
or night. A valve hung out a lot.
Singapore. Bali. Still processing
positive experience – had a
nice time together – still do not
think. Problematic? Do not
think problematic but overall
listen to the birds. And
the oil in the frying pan
on Friday, when we
travel to Arkansas
and road trip. Much
looked forward to
(like Ikea without
a panic attack) and
filled with poetry.
And ohso comfy,
I might add. Complain
for a while over Playstation,
taking a stab at a sore spot.
Vitriolic rhetoric needs
Xanax but the coffee is
done. We talk jobs and
hayrides after which he
stays over. We stay over.
Things that might make you
jealous. Allergies in the
middle of the night.
