Poem #2,711 | A joke – about potted plants
A joke – about potted plants
yet buried in your plot – this
in response – a threat of dull
poetry – a metaphor around
our embedding – under sun
& early hour’s heat [we are
not too wary to lazily greet]
eating squashed fly biscuits
[a choice of mine – gift] – we
dunk our slices in our mugs
of milky coffee without any
breaking up [mouthful took
after tasting stuff last night]