Pattern Recognition

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Location: Here Of Course

I like to talk. And write poetry. I paint a little too.

Sunday, February 19, 2006

Rye Road Dating

The closest we come to a night out
is our chat by the electric blue
recycling container when dumping
the week's newspapers and TV dinner
cartons. Our drink after work is spilt coffee
brought down to the laundry while checking
that faulty tumble-drier.
The last excitement was a small fire
when a pan boiled dry
on the cooker. Any dancing is involuntary
and only when the janitor forgets to grit
the icy path in winter.


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