under another sky
at it again on a friday morning setting up the weekend's work ahead; window washing, old paint scraped back, new paint going on, instal the down pipe and mend my mustard sweater. down to the bakery for a hominy loaf and pastries. when will the banana and walnut cake be ready? it is a bit of a trick to get the old boy grooving on these cold mornings. has anyone seen habit walk down to the corner store to pawn a lung for a packet of ciggies? soon we will be packing up this poetry worn to shadows and slow dancing our way onto the northern tablelands. with the degenerates sprouting up around me like scoby i am afraid i would never be able to pull it off here.