Birds Singing the Monday Blues

Form: Epistle

Another Monday and workday blues but
we are changing it
you upstairs and me in the basement
graft and toil to pay the rent
deadlines still scream out my name
just sharing space makes it okay
ignore me while I pace the garden
stare at the trees
smoke too many fags with another gallon of tea
as the words play around in my head
scribbled notes talking to the birds
what the hell can I do with a sparrow’s chirping
or the raven constantly nagging from the lawn
‘crack on! crack on!’
upstairs, downstairs
damn bird, get out of my lady’s chamber
here, there
I think raven follows me
‘crack on! crack on!’
but today I just don’t care
I got you with me and that’s all that matters
‘crack on! crack on!’ the raven chatters
‘ink, ink, spill the ink’ the song of the thrush
as spider scrawl on paper falls
you upstairs, do you hear the birds too
our bossy birds telling me what to do
‘crack on! crack on!’
‘spill the ink!’
‘write it! write it!’ adds the red breasted robin
I feel the sparrow chirping
I love you
always, all ways, your crazy-assed poet


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