five to the hour
need a shave
The mirror talks to me
‘look at what you see’
and the glass shows every line and all the time in front, behind me and in passing where they’ll find me one day glued into the wallpaper
a shadow lifting in the settings of a garden where a Rose that blooms is watching me go by.
but I’m shaved and feel quite sane now, this is how my mind can wander through the Monday morning ritual
I have bacon in the frying pan and baked beans on the plate
though I’m late and Kate can eat them, Kate’s the cat and she quite likes men
I’m not sure that she likes me though I am late
so that’s debatable.
© 2016, John Smallshaw.