Woke up this morning with the lines of a poem faintly glowing in front of my brain; I usually ignore these dopey early morning leftovers from the strange dreams of the night before, but this one was sort of funny—I really have no idea where it came from—so I jumped out of bed and wrote it down. Please note: It may offend, but it is what it is, something from the land of sleep. I wish it had been a haiku, but it wasn’t…too many syllables for that. Here it is, in its entirety:

Nothing you do can hurt us, daughter.

Your mother and I were all for an abortion,

but couldn’t find a reputable clinic in time.

So what does it matter

if you have sex with a man called ‘Mullet’,

or eat tubs of raw cookie dough with a spoon?

>>> (◕_ ◕) <<<

No, I have no idea, so don’t ask.

Anyway, it’s back to binding books and embroidering things now…I’m flat out making stuff to top up my online shops, which have sprouted a small but very welcome leak!