Hot Tea and Toast


herein lies a




a woollen complexity

rough on the tongue

dry in the throat

a faux love

a preternatural writhing

a knocking on the inner skull with hammers

little god diggers


gold wishers

driving within to my without

taking aim


it doesn’t take a brain surgeon

to see

that the only solution


is hot tea and toast








24 thoughts on “Hot Tea and Toast”

  1. Poet, you got such rhythm, I think in the end that’s why I love your stuff, it’s compulsive reading right to the end when a lot of poetry on blogs I just skim. Yours I read, because it keeps the eyes and the brain and the heart moving. I wish you well with your hot tea and toast; myself, I am going for another home-brewed cappuccino.


    1. thankyou
      I need to avoid the home brew 🙂
      too many gives me a furry tongue (but o how i love the bitter hot nip)
      which is also a symptom of my underlying disorder
      depicted by that last poem of internal noise !


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