Tuesday, 25 October 2011


With a smile.
Which means
I will
Scoop out
the (invisible) dirt
From the milk
I have foamed
just for you.
Like some Dada renegade
I spoon air from air,
Asking forgiveness as I do.
You do not deign
To pour
So wait
Until I realise
That is what you want.

What did your last
Slave die of,
Weak elbows?

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