I’m a collector of words, though that may sound absurd I like pernickety, admix and placard.
You’ll see me each morning reading scripts of warning for the weatherman says rain will be hard, thunderous adorning of water drops scorning the public that walk right below.
Reading it all I’ll know I’ll befall the incredibly mucid streets and lo! The dank exhibition brings to a rendition of London being famed for it all, so – troubled am I to see that the sky is darker yet still, oh no.
This poem is dead, I made a hash of it all, and now into the bin should it go? I can’t decide, maybe not or besides, let’s put it up here, and see how it goes.
© Tina Cousins 2013