Wednesday 28 May 2008

Variation 4

I’d given her three backstreet cat turds to trash this

she snatched one from the carrier bag
with blank stares at the freedom movement
and the theft of fresh dandelions

(ignore this bit) sludges, blow offs, ribena, wives tales
and blue WKD are forgotten about halfway
through, with disregard

Rursus-via cattus sordes might
confound city centres to vinegar
and a crumpled dunce cap

Be trixy and let it dry up a little.
No hard pummels. Watch it desiccate
in three big ones

The stink is me, the turds are
me. Wherever the dandelions sprout up,
that is me too

Abi

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