Some people need a catalyst
like the sun basking a meadow
like the slow, noble head of a cow
raising her eyes to the moon
beauty isn’t everywhere, but
it does creep, pry and sneak
under covers
my girl gets
as hot and soft as proved bread
a cream fall
a silk disaster of flesh
I throw the covers off myself
too hot
head to the window
crack it, the dream catcher begins
a jerky
night-long dance
Luke, she says
you’ve left the blind up
mnh
Luke I want a lie in tomorrow…
silence
Oh my god you’re a PRICK
Kneaded dough suffers upwards gripped by sleep
shuts the blind…
and I suppose I am, really
but in the still morning she apologised
Sometimes you need the sun
spring sun
to realise anything at all
Tired Blinds was published in issue #33 of Belleville Park Pages, which you can find here
Image by Hugo Jones
MY TROUBLED MIND 
Oh yes, very fine writing!
Amazing
This is probably the best poem I’ve read in ages, absolutely wonderful!
Thank you anon.!
You got a real talent for simile and metaphor. Love the drawings, too.
Thank you jane