Frank Corcoran

It´s only human to want to twist that cock´s cock well before Aurora sneaks up on this day dawning.
Bits of sticky sleep – my eye tries to see itself ! ( Which tones to organize on this, my bright day ? )
Five dogs or seven snarl in the cold evening air ! ( Which´ll I strangle first ? ) No, I´m eternally unsatisfied with my violin bowings. Apparently I am ” I ” ; but yesterday ? Tomorrow?
Pink is now reddening – apparently there is a world out there , dogs, loud cock-a-doodle-do about little. Go back to sleep ? Out and fine-tune the string-bowings ?
Morning birds chitter.