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saturday morning observations  (  snoitavresbo gninrom yadrutas  )

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passing cars but nothing parks

eyes are tired but up with larks


floating in a duffel coat

sucking on a menthol sweet


daffodils & spots of frost

mirror men in empty shops


vomit on a cobbled street

broken glass & doner meat


scribbles spit within the bonce

swans upon the river mist


piss'eads sleep in bedfordshire

in an english country coma


hit the fields & breathe the breeze

underneath a silken sun


fuck the queen & hug a tree

birdsong in the bushes

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