Grey & beige blew the bloody doors off.
Looking down at the garden from the office window,
the bramble scrape of the summer before,
and the dried cow shit knocked out of the
cracks in my Dunlops,
and the dog nose in the ground circling round something,
baseball bat giddy,
and my skin, wondering where my tan went,
I'm welcomed to a new age of knowing
I'll never know business.
The spreadsheet starts,
I know now keys solid and clicking and the engineering
of a family;
computer literate or illiterate.