Dear Mr. K,

You seem like a fair man, a simple man, a thoughtful man with fair and simple and thoughtful thoughts- so would it be too much trouble to ask if you could lend a few to me…

You see I’m so complex and unfairly unjust and yet justly fair; I see others as a pest and something I must just tolerate…

You seem to me like a burst pipe in a desert, a vaccine in a legal battle, a feeling of frosted ice upon a diabetic’s tongue, a hollowed out sentiment in an epidemic…

You see so much further than your own nose, at least that’s what I thought of you when you brought around that stack of my undelivered post…

You saw me at my finest, after seeing me at my worst; you saw what was flickering behind the machinations I showed off on the assembly line…

You stand for impossible goals, relentless optimism, and that we’re in an ideas holocaust… and not only that you see we don’t wear clothes that flatter us any-more…

Please Mr K. when you’re released from the ward will you start up a cause just so at weekends I have something to follow?


‘your loving ride into battle’


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