the disquiet...
of the morning,
awakens me....
the magpie's squabble...
the wood pigeons.... cloying...
.. cooing love song..
the raucous, cacophony... of
the kookaburras ....as they sort out .....todays..... territorial hierachy...
........... all proclaim
morning has ......broken
.......in a sleep shattering... way
but... still ...today.. i try to eke
out ......a few more winks
....a few more.... .....moments....
of.... semi-conscious bliss
oh! .......... to .....close ....my eyes
and ....dream some more...
....but no!!!..... the cat
........is having
....................none of that.....
the birds are up...
and he........ housebound....
is hungry..... hungry...***..

Solace in a lonely *******
.....How many of us out here have taken solace in the same secret moment, un-admitted to anyone, where a sense of quiet desperation leads us to a soul-less pulse of wet pleasure followed closely by the reproach of guilt, curled alone in a dank bed waiting for the release of a dreamless sleep.

M.

Few cartoon characters have suffered
like Tom . . . yet not dead.

Casting the old flame's gear
away,
garbing a new wear.