In dulcet tones
on gramophones
through meadows, forests, along
salty beaches
where I now
walk alone
I remember the plans we made on the
screen and
telephone
wearing my herring
down to the bone
My gaberdine jacket is of a cloth
home grown
purchased with pains
from the rest of an estate
that amounted to little
and less
storage space
Maybe it's not my lot to
live in luxury
but I'd like to give it a try

the apache kid