Verb (September)

September sucks. Bees bounce on wattle down. September sings, the songs of solitary magpies on high wires. September converses. Another day raises verbosity of opinion. It lumps, it obtrudes, it whistles. September crosses against the lights. September rests on its shovel. September leans against a wall. It has a thirst you can photograph. It is hungry for something good. It blossoms, it parks, it reverses. No one escapes its timely appearance. September texts. Words are graphic and somehow new. September does a Hopkins. Everything’s coloured shapely. September waits in line. September stays firm. September fills with water, overflows. September glows.