Are we there yet again

Cast off
stop knitting
start swimming
we’re all drowning.

it’s not quite time
but
it’s a quiet time
and that’s good enough.

Someone takes pity
in New York city
and drops me a dime
but
the city is played out
like an overworked mine
and a dime is all I expect.

Dreams.

On the streets of old London
they sold me a dud one
a wind up and watch me go,
but the clockwork went
and I spent most of my time
wishing for New York and
the drop of a dime.

I’m treading water
because I ran out of grapes.

© 2018, John Smallshaw.