Friday, August 19, 2016

8529. DIGGING FOR WATER

DIGGING FOR WATER
I'm tired of tramp people smashing
my flowers. It's a symbolic thing; I
have no flowers. There's a midnight
bell I keep hearing, but it's one AM.
How wrong can these things be?
-
The head of percolated water blows
forward, as if the room held a wind
of its own. He who makes tea in the
dark makes dark tea.

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