Analysis of Today

I walked around my “local” charity shops
to find a book that took my fancy.

(Buckhurst Hill has no “second hand news”.
It’s too concerned with well stocked pantries.)

So, into South Woodford I stumbled.

(A respite for Thais,
who have no need for disguise.
They are or they aren’t -
it’s never about PRIDE.)

The place I stumbled upon -
next door to
a piercing of the tongue,
a beating sun

contained a copy of “The Prince”,
a well made translation
by a man I’d never heard of.

Turned out he was from Manchester.

A distraction from
the horror of the day.

A decay.
The mind.
A dying.