Wednesday 6th April



The Boy with an infinite patch on his arm shouts loud, almost funny,
Busy leg in the window, sweetness in progress, left too soon,
cartoon violent, fakes jackin’ it.
The Speeches roll, the wake-up call, eulogies trigger tears.
It doesn’t make sense. It’s not right. Just a notch either way
makes all the difference. A dodgy bean batch done it to the blades.


2 thoughts on “Wednesday 6th April

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