Friday, November 14, 2014


Towards the thin end of the year the mishaps
Skillfully evaded earlier make a concerted effort
The tea in the cup insists on spilling itself
Keys slip out of bag or pocket and conceal themselves
Straps will break and knots untie themselves
Someone has taken the old sun for repairs
And left a wafer pasted against the sky;
Wear clean socks; don't give your right name.

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