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.