Everyone, it seams, splitting in bad way,

Has a-genda.

But wot if it were otherwise?

Wot if some other way?

Wot if we were just some dots

Which joined up easy different?

Yer know:

According to the day.

Wot if you and I did smile

And hug and fuck or not,

Out of love and life and thrive

Thrice got?

And as we are, it seams so hard 

And divided

And flouted

And shouted.

And wot you got 

And wot I got – oh, it does split 

The seaming



Like we were lists of 

Such tired lost.

And if we do all have a-genda

But can learn not to 


A toss,

Wot’s stopping us from

Digging these seams 

Into the purist gold of all the lot?


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