LeChatDeBiscuit

Jumped the gun, sprung ahead, broke the rules. They say, “Don’t wish it away.” and I try but, how to not when I’ve seen the mountaintop. The other side, the promised land in my hand and then not. Placed on the shelf just out of reach, and back to face-brick buildings where they preach of the future. The future which I’ve tasted, tasted as Lionel Newton told us to taste Shakespeare’s word. Well, I’ve tasted the Prince’s Paris, I know his yearning to return. But, back to school: rise, walk, work, fall. And you are my Claudius. Six months multiplies, grows and doubles, stretches, bubbles to