sorrows come, as Willie said,
not single spies
and so holus-bolus
life is higgledy-piggledy,
yet again,
as we scramble
and scrape
and scrappily
ignore the ache
while we pick up the pieces
and piecemeal
make glue with our grime
to wattle and daub
the sucker back together
and rebuild better
once we're in
for some nicer weather
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