they moved her, you know, from the trolly
to a plinth .not sure whether to be honored,
stayed still with glass, bandages
a message came, choked on tears,
sobbing rose. that one should
mrs ciano received a message.
mostly think so these days, even when worked out as planned.
have been wondering what is the point, like is there a point?
or is it all pins and needles. over lunch, we discussed.
i chose the duck wraps, minding my pronunciation. she pointed
out that the point may be, that there is none, therefore
I am going back to montgomery to buy a measuring
having eaten too much cheese, watched
surreal, tremendous film, find a head,
with headache at nine minutes to seven.
bravely drink tea, carry on until it fades,
the british way. this is the least of the
worry in this world of ours.
ibruprofen takes this ill away.
the news is on the radio