Fun-Wall.
It’s raining outside it is house cold inside, a few days hence
it will be show time and fucking spruce trees everywhere.
I’m not going to buy a manicured sapling, an oak! Yes.
I willing plant an oak sapling it in my garden, if I ever get
to have one; a pot plant, on concrete painted green, calls
it my garden; in telling, it gets huge fitted around a nine hole,
golf course, how is anyone to know, my friends live inside
the internet and they are equally abstract.
I have faked everything about myself told them I’m a poet,
my poems are written by my grandmother, found the stuff
when I was clearing up in the attic, and before setting fire to
the house claiming the insurance money; it backfired, (pun)
the old lady never bothered to insure the dwelling. I live in
stable now vacated by donkeys that have vanished from our
the landscape; but never mind that misery, I feel in my bones
there will never be a summer just like the one that just left
If I write a funny story on the wall the sneakes across palestinian land, will they laugh or feel offended?