395 – Welcome To November

Poem number 395
Welcome to November
The sky as grey as old men’s pants
The urine tinted rain
The floods along the pavement from the overflowing drain
A fart of wind, a drizzle shart, dead leaves as brown as poo
Welcome to November, how those summer months just flew.
That summer’s dead and mouldy now
A stake rammed through one eye
In a coffin made of rotting wood and filled with buzzsaw flies
As dead as Charlie Chaplin and as cold as severed teeth
Welcome to November, Summer’s buried underneath.
Put on your leaking wellingtons
Your hat that’s come unstitched
Wrap yourself in itchy fleece, this wintertime’s a bitch.
It’s raining now but snow will come, with frost that steals your breath
Welcome to November, home of misery and death.


2 thoughts on “395 – Welcome To November

    • My thoughts exactly! I should love November because it has a few family birthdays (including my own) but in reality it’s just dark and lifeless and rubbish. I don’t think of it as Autumn though – as far as I’m concerned it’s Winter all the way, even if convention says otherwise!

      Liked by 1 person

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