April is one cruel motherfucka
Useless Hotel slippers overlap
With shabby grey sensible
Tom’s ethical pumps
and fila flops
I sit in my blue shirt bought in Amerikay
In under resplendent orange fizzy pop
The cushion of
The need to insulate the ears from what?
Until jets fly low
Nowhere to hide
Time to look inside
Regardless of that stinking ting called sin
I suppose it is nice to not have a dog collar on –
A. Q. has been writing poems since childhood and has never sold one…..yet! You know the drill, “Doing other stuff”.