…

not just the policemen

but the frogmen & the beekeepers

are getting younger too

& yesteryear’s saplings

are forests instead

i walk in them each morning

& often still get lost

or stuck in throbbing thicket

in between broadsides

& water slide moments

hostas in a bathtub

where’s my pile cream?

the queen’s a bloody bloke

who married a mare

the price of eggs is soaring

like a paragliding buzzard

…