We’d never pass a skip
Without looking in
Your timbre
Reminds me of timber
Signs
Like Upwey painted
Guides and, well,
Wishing
A mile away
Felt like a new world
These people were not like us
Throwing out things we couldn’t afford

My first is a saint
Translated as victory
Of the people
Last is an atlas
Mapping my way
Inbetwixt

No news

Except I bought a scarf

That says F the Government

I Love You

All being well

It won’t be long

Until I say I do

Hopefully with The Burning Hell there too

My quarterly panic arrives
This season tied in with assignment angst
Student political fatigue and
Second job grief
I haven’t written creatively for what seems like a year
Nothing to say
Hypersomniac handwringer
In the past I’d run away
Disappear for a few months
Start a new life in a new town
But now I am loved
I am grounded
I’d throw myself at a wall
However, times have changed
So I set up a mental health self-referral

Thank you for your beautiful recital this morning. Your words meant so much to me. I cannot wait to read your book, and I look forward to the future movie.