I sleep naked in my covers
With my window wide open
And the fan blasting with
The stink of September
& It's minstrel children parading through the lounge garden

When I'm still awake
I make a biscuit with Jam
And drink unfiltered coffee grounds
To cool off my sores
& Rinse my eyes

These puddles are now & the women have never been more ugly.
We're all
suffering