At the Last Minute

Something’s clogging up the drain.
Nothing wants to move.
Don’t worry, I’ll have it open, clean again
long before I have to leave.

Whispers got loud. Plans got too clear.
Those on hand’re taking it hard.
Would’ve been well had it not been so far
away such things were to’ve occurred.

Can’t we afford yet getting the ceiling fixed?
Ask Mother what she wants.
If I’m still hereabouts for what happens next
for us, don’t think it’ll’ve been chance.


by michael with maggie


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