Where is sleep?
I’ve checked under the pillow.
I’m sure I saw him once there,
but tonight he evades me.
So I lie here
and listen to his heartbeat,
his gentle breath cooling my arm
on this barmy (sic) night.
I’m tired, so
from hereon in, I’ll let
write some nonsense…
Poetry is my heart of the city of London police said he
The last or so much more about you than a very good job
Tanka very welcome and encouraged by my hair loss
(Which will soon come when I ‘brave the shave‘)
The words from you like me and have no problem
In the end of the day job as a lot of people
who are not to be confused with a lot of space and time
Consuming and inefficient to a moment