Kerri Shying R - # 612 Frayed

Frayed

nothing is forever   not computers
not the love   we told the world we’d

suffer  through together    the hell
the high water   line    washed

us like a Kelvinator  on a big load
it was all   a drudge   baskets   too

heavy for lifting     the slippery grass
the mozzies   biting from the late rains

of the summer that couldn’t get it together
to just end  and get it over with  sweating

over soups  like some voodoo might
bring down winter close the doors

let the clothes horse over heaters
change the  timbre  take our minds off

all the words that fray