MASTER
Well what now then and who cares anyway.
The wetlands have all been paved, the smell
of my own bones is now turning to powder,
most people no longer jog, and - see then
what I mean. The whole world's a mental
case. Counted socks in the underwear drawer,
and underwear where the shirts should be.
The footprints on the Moon, we're told are
still waiting, but that Moonrock from
the United Nations lobby, on display for
years, is now missing and no one knows
where. I think it leapt away, intent on it
own volition, to get back quickly to it
own home and hearth. (Which is only,
really, earth with an h).
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