08 September 2016

An April Virus



Claiming it’ll be a long day even before you’re half 
way into it suggests a random process to contend 
with; you know those arbitrary impediments - what 
matters most is your state of mind - no sentiments 
allowed free too verbose for ibuprofen, to trammel 
where they shouldn’t be; dizziness settles th’ best 
when you’re flat on your back, where, lying prone, 
esoteric subtlety arrests frivolous flights of fancy 

So be it, you declare, as if you’ve a degree of the 
blarney better suited this occasion; and so where 
were we when the shit hit the fan - and, hey, why 
is it me who wears the consequences; there’s no 
broadcast justice in this iteration - with no claims 
to either notoriety or fame; yet beware - the virus 

Is still out there - & apparently flying fancy-free
© 1 April 2016, I. D. Carswell