Brunch, a banquet no less,
dished up in the recess between
naive hunger pangs and a more
substantial craving
But it’s Saturday, traditionally
there’s never a fuss over eggs
scrambled on a bed of humbly
sautéed spinach and cheese
And it’s raining, a grim grey
outré blandishment’s veil
persuading no need for
disingenuous flattery
So we stay in the ‘not quite’
mode of neither/nor and greet
later comings and goings
as designer events in vogue
Amazing how relaxed one
becomes when unmade decisions
impact no-one and nothing
invades spectacularly
© 28 April 2012, I. D. Carswell
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