Where’s my pink?

You mock your meniscus.

Poopoo your herniated disks,

Ignore the worrying cracking noise

that just escaped the mysterious innerworkings of your hip-flexors;

you are – Namastanley exalts – adding life-juice

by crushing your pigeon.

it is what it is and it could be worse

Also,

I’ve never seen

The Matrix.

Do you remember when we were pretty –

Oh, so very, very pretty! –

Now that our feet beckon our topography,

and time bolts towards eternity?

I hope, now, that we soften,

strive to let the inconsequential go.

A poem read by the fire, and a very friendly young fox.

Blessings

Cowboy books, Arabellah Gherkin-Devine and Returning to Life

Pam Bondi a refusé tout commentaire

Pam Bondi has declined to comment

The art of floating through the day

And you, amor, you shine!

Subvert your verbs, Tart up your metaphors

Bound by dreamcatching duties

Do you remember…?

Too sick and it sucks

En français pour changer

This or that?

And we’re off

Have you read a rom com this summer?