apr2010_1692

Spiders might be about
My extremities may have gout
Creepy crawlers may be neigh
They are invisible to my eye
As I chill in the darkness to on line music
Upstairs as my ninety year old mum sleeps below
I have at it in the attic of my youth.
Saturday night on holiday weekend
I sip silent brandy and pen
Above the too quiet din
Smirking at the mental plan I have to win.
Wooden rafters all around
Insulation non asbestos abounds
Ventilation wired as to prevent squirrel intrusion
My hideaway is a real illusion.
Thanks to a private entrance
Am free to go and come,
Not to disturbing the sleeping Mum.
Conditioner necessary to move the rare air
Ancient splinter wood under foot
Formerly a linen closet was the only access up to up here.
Now my temporary domain is clear!
Converted to a non-allergic place
Observant of the street I was raised upon
Confined in miserably crowded disgraceful times!
Dare to compare as current third world-like disgrace.

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