Sarah Maitland Parks
Sarah Maitland Parks In a moment of boring My eyes went a-touring I made a hand clap Which jolted the nap Of the man in the library snoring Scrolling up, scrolling down, never a smile, never a frown, just page after page, politics and rage, I think I need to lie down. when looking at a telephone even thinking of a telephone will it won’t it ring just like a telephone From page thirteen I go backwards scrolling through colours all the way back to coding I am left in a tizz about who is the whizz at writing and referring and joking. Going by plane to somewhere new Means packing suncream and goo, Then staying in a hotel Not feeling quite well Until the flight home is due.
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