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.

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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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