HONEY ROASTED

& i do this here in the mornings
log in / clock in / report for duty
& trawl my notes
& my mind
& my memories 

& hiccupping intention

& the stumbling dance is on
in this early buffet 

of whimsy & effort

& needy blim of creation

till the washing machine
sings its electric finishing tune
& i get into the cheap cuts

of the buffering day
sliced thin but honey roasted