The game of life is fkd we supposed to value money so people get it by any means
then its from the cops we runnin and people doing life for sellin green to the ones who tryna escape by gettin high, they known as fiends...
an now they both behind that barbed wye and cut like seams
and in that cell its people who got more hooks than Kareem
but only thing they lookin forward to is money on they books and if you dont got a fam then even in jail you scheme
when you get out you need a money plan so its right back to sellin beans...
3 strikes its life you land all cause you were tryna build support for your fam like a crib with the beams
Fading shadows silent flee.' Fluttering wings and bird calls
Clear ringing around.. Sunlight feeds dawntime lapping
Water babbles its sound..Its firm the earth; under a mossy
Down, a fish jumps skyward, splashes surround ' i cast a
The twine; the float bobs steady all is fine, puffy white Clouds on high.' flags are nodding royal lbue and gold
Distant sheep are bleating..A peace enfolds.' I contemplate
Beside the wye' before before I fade my time gone by.'
You came in a beat up old blue Landie
with tales of sleeping giants on your lips.
It was your first night in the cottage
when the Wye was skipping over stones,
dividing the spiked water milfoil
with sacred Pumlumon Fawr sunk into the sunset.
We watched a heron draggle
in and out of the water crowfoot beds,
trusted we’d see muntjac or wild boar tomorrow.
Look, there’s a kingfisher, jewelled above the otter’s holt
and later a dipper, teeter-totter,
near the yellow-cress.
Watching frogs collared by ripples
we wish for a grass snake or polecat.
Skipping past horse-tail and great willowherb
you trace the sand martins with your miniature fingertips
while I collect peppery chives from the bedrock
and turn my once carefree soul to my stomach.
from 'Scratching The Surface' 2019
https://amzn.to/32GSMGl
"Wood Yukon sitter cheek and rums ticks," Kay tasked.
"Gnome am," Pea tour re-plyed.
"Wye knot?" Kay tasks.
"Beek us eye cants tanned cheek an," Pea tour an sirs.
"Nope rob," myrrh myrrhs Kate, diss up point ed lee.
"Due ewe no how-do cooks take?" Pea tour vent sures.
"Sherbet eye awl weighs may ache miss steaks," Kay tan sirs.
"Tube add...Sew buy, sea ya," man a jests Pea tour.
"Add you," off hers Kate.
'Fee Knee Seam Oh'
Wye, 2 Konfabulation
Come folk; gather to my proboscis
And hark to my impending psychosis.
Tonight is December thirty-fust,
Something is about to bust.
\The clock is crouching, ready to pounce;
Of pity it'll not give an ounce.
This way comes rapacity, penury.
Duck, here comes another century.