This morning I woke up early , I’m on it,
With a bee in my bonnet
Working through my washing pile
As it diminishes I have to smile
Dishes next, empty the dish washer
And put them away so much posher
The tumble dryer is wild by now
The clothes are even drying wow
I’ve cleaned the pots and pans
The sandwich maker, the air fryer and fans
The kitchen floor
And what’s more
It’s all clean
It won’t stay like that
It’s all there in my dreams!

The things that come out o your head
Are just skin cells you're ready to shed
Write them down on a page
And then let all the days
Be the judges
Of what you relate.

when she heard that i had been drilling fitfully,
she asked why but i could not explain really. so
i added the stop.

it seems that some like sticks, while others do
not.

there are a few of us, one of us is      leaving.

i look at you -
long and hard;
strike one off
the tally card -
of false promises,
and dubious words;
i peck your bud,
and fly like a bird.

i draw the line,
and watch it fade:
every second
you and i are away -
from each others grips,
coming down the trips -
i wonder if there was
another way.

smoke rings rising
up the clock -
show me the times
i forgot to lock:
my impulse for a high;
i’m not sure why -
i was expecting a key
at the bottom of the rock.