Poem #2,713 | Portslade Tea Ceremony
I have never had such a GF
[one whom whistles whilst
she climbs ‘tween rooms –
as she makes tea at 06.33] –
Our bodies have rubbed &
they will rub –
Clinkings as
she heats a pot
[still those
ireful gulls with too-unruly
calls ‘bove Portslade] –
We
compare our slept notes &
our prior evening’s views –
those art house films from
a worthy-ish subscription –
before we break away to a
separated day of workings
& invoiced moments –
I do
prefer an unpaid morning