Born. Educated. Worked.
And live in the mornings
While the seasons project themselves
On to the panes of Billy’s windows.
I want to walk downstairs
...
If your love was the rainfall
I’d fling my umbrella,
Kick off my galoshes
And sail my sow ester
...
Thou truly art a prince amongst pavement prowlers
The duke of the display rack
The archbishop of affordability.
...
Spilling out like a rug,
the morning scatters amongst
the scrub of La Martiniere.
Bleaching each blade,
...