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Jan 2017
A bed of
a lad in

A lad in a bed of creased sheets catching crumpling dreams as the night falls apart,

I'd better start something or better to be snoozing?


Friday it's okay and two sachets of sugar with one spoon of instant,
it smells hot and tastes sweet

My eye's full of glue and my head's a marshmallow, the day ahead looks so deep and my breathing is shallow,

Nobody says,
poor fellow.
In the madness of a morning when everything's a chandelier I'm never really clear about anything,.
John Edward Smallshaw
Written by
John Edward Smallshaw  64/Here and now
(64/Here and now)   
   Weeping willow
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