There is nothing more than

There is nothing more than this time
it is perfection in a round ball
rolling along the street with a whim
sheep rolling happy in Shepards Bush
warm fuzzy hair tamed veins
it is not a tale of woe but fun
is it all you could do to alude from the
one way slur the ends of your lips
unfurl as you approach lights

when applying makeup
better than the french without a mirror
held fast to their wirey and paniced hair in the dark

the able rogers farmicated lad with a rake
and all that hay he arranged in secret hairdos

and those wonderful shoes!