It’s stone cold underneath
where I’m perched
A cigarette partly smoked
mostly forgotten
feigning interest in the old man’s monologue
about the beauty of the garden...
Trees, flowers, buds, bullsh –
smiles disguise derisive thoughts
Apparently they’re indigenous?
It doesn’t make me care
I only smile to see
The tiny bird, with the tiny wings
disturbing the blossom
as a skittish getaway is made
Trees, flowers, buds, for fuc -
Then there are the eyes
watching his ascent.
A body of silk wrapping itself
around the spaces beneath the shrubs,
nonchalant in his angry disappointment
feline wiles are the envy of most.
Trees, flowers, buds
It’s all the same.
where I’m perched
A cigarette partly smoked
mostly forgotten
feigning interest in the old man’s monologue
about the beauty of the garden...
Trees, flowers, buds, bullsh –
smiles disguise derisive thoughts
Apparently they’re indigenous?
It doesn’t make me care
I only smile to see
The tiny bird, with the tiny wings
disturbing the blossom
as a skittish getaway is made
Trees, flowers, buds, for fuc -
Then there are the eyes
watching his ascent.
A body of silk wrapping itself
around the spaces beneath the shrubs,
nonchalant in his angry disappointment
feline wiles are the envy of most.
Trees, flowers, buds
It’s all the same.