Peppermint Aero Chutney
It was a fortunate misreading
the kind that over-rides the first
dull meaning in a magazine:
four tigers in a frame.
I see them painted by Rousseau.
One gate at least hangs open:
There's a barrier, ten foot tall,
of dull wood painted green,
where the flowers and pathways were.
The overwriting hand is poised.
I think of William Blake,
his birthplace up the concrete steps.
There's an old VW convertible
that often parks round there,
yellow as a plastic bee.
No shop front that I pass
and pass again is ever the same:
blue as surreal ceramic.
Why does latte come out black?
With spikes up close, they look
bigger than church steeples.
A lemon nestles among the apples.
Being very sorry, or just being...
Acting up or just acting...
Desire to leave express my admiration to the beautiful work of this Blog, yours truly, EfigĂȘnia Coutinho (Mallemont)
ReplyDeleteBRAZIL
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