~

monday’s tongue ( a quatro-nonrick for all seasons & cheeses )

…

the car alarms as grey dawn slurps

on nettle tea as puddles chirp

an almost song

of dawdle on

as monday's tongue - it tastes the dirt


the cow remarks in terse excerpts

fluorescently as knee pads jerk

the blow blows free

as bus stops sneeze

& old goats float as leopards lurk


the sun is dark as acorns burp

incessantly & shepherds smirk

but still the swans

they slide along

with shiny ties & ironed shirts


the dog's all bark as curtains shirk

collectively yet blind perk

as bumble bees

they clutch at keys

so possibly - things just might work

( ? )

...