Textling #49

A friend rings just as day breaks, greatly distressed. Where are the sails to set, the rams to slay, the crones to cast a soothing spell? The telephone sports a rodent’s tail. You have nothing to share but a two-step on ear-clock, and a piddling drip-feed of sympathy. Your heart jumps up the nearest tree. Leaves you a paper effigy.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s