JD died and we began
with tepid mocha lattes
instead of tea.
His number…?
or the industry, we mused,
but, on the seventh day, forget
that phones are not our family,
coin is in our debt and 24 hrs
is more than enough to get us
where we’ve got to get.
Author notes
C# I rhymed. Things are moving backwards.
Comments
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Lovely, nice and cryptic, just how a poem by a clever woman should be- particularly if she doesn't really care whether she is a good poet, or not...
(types, deletes, types some more, deletes that too)... I took some care deciding to not write things, here in your poem-page my friend...
*bunch of
queen-lillies*
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