#2,576 That splay of stray youth
That splay of stray youth
[& a mis-judging of time]
was my thin vomitorium
into these disappointing
days – high in Scotland a
tribe of stone men stand
above stolen hills – all of
my youth ran unfenced –
now bankers blag moors
from us – my playground
was purchased for roads
to circle London – driven
into [& recalling of such]
I regale my lost past – I’ll
dig at slip of earthworks