Projections

The temperature being off the scale
and I’m moving silently on network rail
the day is just an epic fail
I should bale out, the
mercury is rising fusing blood into my eyes
everything looks supersize
my pupils are expanding
It’s time to finish off the game
and throw this lousy hand in.

In this frame of mind
I spill the coffee
burn the toast
and unscrambling eggs is
what I hate the most.

Tuesday and a day begins
but in the greater scheme of things
that doesn’t mean too much.

© 2018, John Smallshaw.