On Noon No ~ The ‘Well… what does it all mean?’ collaboration

Gotta quit stopping on this streetcorner: got my own fertilizer to spread. Thanks Teti-Tony. (Now I gotta go unwind my anti-(explitive! How could I forget Luddite?)Luddite mass detector and find out what “Telegram” means…”InShare” I suspect will have to await All Hallows Eve’s day-after. You guys are ruining my planned lethargy!

unbolt me

Dammit, I’m mad!

And there are really many reasons to be mad about Tony…

…the first one is Crumble Cult.
…the second one is ONCE MORE, WITH FOREBODING.

The third… The fourth… The hell with it! I don’t need so many! There is only a single reasonfor me… It’s Tony Single!

Thank you, Tony…


Our end began with weaponised words,
bashing the chest like a thousand rolling-pins
on sourdough heart and bone.

Of course, you had a dim foreboding.
Crunch of parchment. Red saffron underfoot.
A marble chopping stone.

I plated myself up for disappointment.
A corrugated brow. Cold hearth and home.
You meant for me to die alone!

You always were flippant and presumptuous.
You estimated our life by eye
and borrowed a swollen loan.

Arugula words were all I tasted from you.
You were east of the sun then west of the moon.

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