Monday, March 11, 2019

Time To Go Home

The chillers came on in time to be too late: the heat was gone;
it’s raining and the oppressed in the office illegally switched on
heaters as I dug out my blanket, aircon repairs perfectly timed
to meet autumn’s cooler air head-on after an all-summer-long

break-down in an inverse correlation between cooling chillers
and cold weather - as supernatural as an orchestrated occult
phenomenon; babbling voices relate weekend events - a car
crash added to last week’s accidents and working in gardens,

washing cupboards & I also brag about laundering bathroom
rugs; Mme Pompadour didn’t come to the office as she has a
gash in her car, Marie Antoinette returned from leave relating
she helped her Sun King acquire a new painting; soon it’ll be

time to go home and I haven’t reached any translation goals:
looking forward to the brief enchantment of Pratchett’s Death
drinking alcohol as princess Keli is trying to sleep before her
coronation in an Elizabethan dress worn by English royalty

Though I achieved nothing today spending office-time sharing
life’s cameos was great fun - now if the bus would kindly be on
time I can sink into the travails of “Mort”, Death’s assistant - &
this day would become one more line in My Life’s Song…

Monday 11 March 2019
Elizabethan dress worn by princess Keli at her coronation

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