There's always someone somewhere isn't there;
you know what I mean, someone somewhere waiting

moral hazard and the chemical sweats

vanishing
profligate

your treacle, a trifle, a spotted dick

for.ego

Ulmus rubra, the slippery elm
half-woke trembling in the underdogs' millenium.

So this is the dusk is it, its
bits and pieces, its conundra;
rafts of starlings tilt and bank
slanting January black.