time
was
after
scouring
cards
for
folding
money
id hide out on the back lawn
flopping
around
uncomfortable in my heart stone
with
a
bottle
of
gin
and
warm
bottled
beers
on worn out chairs - id pick at their peeling legs
trying to lose myself in microcosm
and
watching
the
clouds
do the dance they do
wondering
who
drew
such
beauty
over dark dark earth
and jot down some words in some pad
fearful
of
the
doorbell
or
phone - the People Alarm
of
intrusion - the start of theft
of
my
safe-sad hiding time
time WAS . . .
from the deep archives of steven ellcock
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