Here we are, exposed to all
Material reality shoves at us
True to tell, Offa was right
Somehow
The limits of improvisation
Pretty clear – soup from pus?
Sour milk only & no gravy train
OK - adjust
Remember that glamour is grammar!
You can wake up to all this
Suddenly sheathed in fluid light
Somehow
Poets like weddings we hope
Hey! Time to start again
Prick on the muumuus! And
OK – adjust
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