Known not to rhyme every line but
when handling mandarins he damages egos
of show-boating masters toting
silk-cut toking cloaked loathsome
intellectuals
Some say the fruit is too fragile for the show to go
outside where fists meet bones and phones find homes, still
sucking on a beer left for lent
(three pounds and ninety-eight pence spent)
you can’t lose with quick food
said the fella he met at the urinal
like finding a suit on good friday for your own funeral
im poss ib le
He has to prove the drive-thru is not a challenge for a man
of his stature, don’t despair, remain austere, order:
one cheeseburger please no pickles patron…
All fed up now a silhouetted clown frowns and dances forwards
searching for a snooze partner fe or male
his sleeping bag tent wards genst sleet snow hail
eyes puffed up fluffy as a bunny tail –
one tear
two
down one cheek
do it all again next week.
Amazing, the way you weave this together. Prose that tastes just as good rolling of the tongue as it does hearing them in the ears! 💕💕💕
Off* sorry