forget it mun 

Dusty Springfield singing

the old songs the old flames

over the log fire crackling the 

static of time pixilated over

and over the cat’s snoozing on

a night that is as wet as a frog

drowning down the backroads the

graffiti of a mind in dissolution at

all the thoughts that these winsome tears 

have torn from the blackness of a

 black sky   on a black night

that thought   that   thought ..

                 mmm ...