Substance Over Style by Godfrey Bletch

Yellow stained tears
Fall down your rose scratched chin
Into a mirrored pool on the formica.

Limes and ginger abound in your charming kitchen,
Sweaty puss and lamplit drug addled youth
Scrape at the chrome furnishings.

There you stand in your dressing gown
Drinking the infusion
Imagining the hay loft and the three gargoyle abbey.

Simon P slams the think tank door
Heads for the local argument
Driving while drunk, vapour released and minted.

Cold, so cold
In Draylon and gauze underwear
Lying in the forget-me-not and cowslip parsley meadow bed

A house is a house
A dream is not built, but remains a dream
Shafts of light intersect the dust in a glittering inhaler display

So, lemon women
The spark plug is replaced
A gigglebit of memories slotted in next to the 'doing' card.

What now and where with all ?
Down into the showering rain
For a skip in the mudlight brown, wet earth

Au Revoir
Goodbye, well done
For scratching out the hole with a teaspoon, you have done well.