affray
there’s a breeze I feel
about my face and frame,
no location can be found but you
you turn the milk sour as the mirrors crack,
the street below bustles a way away
while I recede and purvey from afar,
people like me moving to the beat of misery
cough and splutter their rain-coated lives home,
the breeze of this street wasn’t my first choice
that choice has long since worn away,
if I was schooled in the magic arts of love and law
an erudite idiot I may swell to be, and cause affray,
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