She says,
sell seashells,
but
hells bells
I want to spend
more time with her.

Watching the riptide
about a mile wide
racing up the bay.

I did that yesterday
about sixty years ago
but one doesn't forget
wonder and awe.

Up there on the wing
in the light of a Summer day
swallows played tag with the wind.

Monday
it was a day
but it is best to forget it

Tuesday Tomorrow
and who will you borrow
off then?
#
Homeless men
who can't pick up a pen
to write you a cheque?

There are wrecks
and they're out there
willing to swear on the bible
that it wasn't their fault

#hashtag me too
add me to that list.

Are you feeling it yet,
has that
spring in your step
sprung?

Does twenty-twenty-five
make you come
alive
or
just want to sleep?

She
puts the wrong things
right for me
and
makes the nights
come alight for me.

It's still raining
and
I blame it on
all that dancing.

And one more government promise that someday might surface,
and they may make good on their word,

'A Handbag?'
oh dearie don't be absurd.

The Oscar goes to Keir Starmer for a fine bit of acting.