I’m working on the next entry in my Waste Land series; but I keep getting sidetracked. In the meantime, this is really quite delightful:
In April one seldom feels cheerful;
Dry stones, sun and dust make me fearful;
Clairvoyantes distress me,
Commuters depress me—
Met Stetson and gave him an earful.
Read the rest here: The Waste Land: Five Limericks by Wendy Cope.
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