The weekly poetry returns, and with it a desire to do something a little better than I have been previously. 

However, for that to happen successfully there’ll need to be a couple of weeks where routines get baked back into habits. Having said all that, however, this is not bad at all. I am pleased with the outcome, and it covers a lot of bases simultaneously. Undoubtedly the intellectual audience will find me nodding a little too much to cliche, but in that regard I do enjoy the obvious to make a point.

Next week you get more days, yet less words: by the third week in March…


Dough

Money; it appears, root’s cavity
all evil buried under dough’s
craggy inclination, soured starter
one million awkward conversations.

Bears hibernate, bulls castigate, make
hey capitalism, let’s go boom, bust out
rusting remains, millions jobless
universal wage requirements constant.

Billionaires hoard it, shareholders applaud it
evil, necessary, unless you don’t have any:
put down plastic, raise up care
support h
elp whole, truth far more fair.