a crumpet smell wafting the gulch of then, so saliently. believe this:

this as I snap the wet tea towel for a mark out of twenty.


ever vacuuming up ‘now’ with the other fridge magnets &

reading prosperity into the arc: nozzle, carpet, stainless steel.


you see the triangle. I’ve prepared much more & earlier though.

here’s stardust viewed through the lens of failed projects. poignant no?


smoked paprika crusts the stove. I write a factional poem &

talk less politics, a mark of respect, one waived later,


every instance a broken tooth on the field. but okay,

with smoke breath Julia Gillard rolls the grass before the game.