It was a wafting summer morning
A day when I was magic
So it must have had an ‘R’
Maybe Thursday

And the sailboat-decked horizon
Did not beckon
No, it glared
And an Alabama angel
So much like Susan T.

Sang up conjuring tricks
That minimised the pain

The jackdaw and the black rabbit
Shared a patch of brown-mown grass
With the corpse of something recent
And a sandwich dropped by bikers

I made music with a rock against a shell
The jackdaw imitated laryngitis
That blackbird suffered from
Last time we played.

We looked for closure
But the music rambled on