- Vol. 09
- Chapter 10
Triangles
Aren’t as pronounced as
the circle, in my view,
which leaves this window.
It isn’t too late, they said,
to catch the reading,
I focus on a rotund warning,
And trip over this bag,
Which no one makes a claim
For. I’m too late, I said,
holding a pen too
Close to my eye,
Which, of course,
I puncture by accident.
‘I’m afraid there are possible
delays on this line, please be
patient’ is the call.
I asked if the event had a zoom link,
but falls to dull ears, and there’s
no connection, blame it
on the last election, they said.
Labour wanted to socialise
the Wi-Fi, they said, a
radical shearing lines,
Triangles
just before they meet
at this platform. We
got maybe hours to
pass, so I do an
impression of
machinery and
hope this gets
things moving
again.