Marmalade Toast

Hot marmalade on toast.
Attracts the attention of the birds.
Cut into triangles, sweet and burnt.
...
All the letters I never sent.
Will get-to-you, in there own time.
With unsent letters you don't regret,
You don't even need to write-back.
In the morning broken-down house.
House-mates sleep till well past twelve.
I get up early to burn the toast.
Sorry I can't help with the noise.
I'm walking home, late at night.
Blue spotted stockings keep riding past.
I'm sick of stepping on the snails
so I walk down the centre of the road.
...
A place I'd rather be. Marmalade sweet.
Suck-down cups of tea. Anxiety.

 

Place I'd rather be.