Poetry Blog by Laurie Briar (the guilty feminist)
The chime-chirp glint in your talk
pep-drawling, through my grit-clogged Samsung speaker
like a wise blue hedgehog with salacious
pips and chings of playground secrets
makes my covid swab a shade less eye-popping.
My cobbled, shapeless day seem masterful.
Tuesday 30th March 2021 10:07 am