Dolour

Eating green apples

on a grey day

in a white room,

the lamp plays

hopscotch

on parquet wood tiles,

the glass bell

of the water pipe

sighs.

Outside the window

two men argue

about the price

of flowers,

a tram sails past,

ash sprinkles

the sky.

Yesterday was salmon

and falafel, tonight

will be

an Irish cat,

tomorrow

I will hurl

your guitar

through the glass

and

leave.