This morning was perfect:

News was bad,
sky was dark,
bread was stale

Empty plate and dirty spoon,
rippled shirts and dusty window,
the old gramophone,
and swinging sixties melody

Nothing was in the right place;

My red heels,
our black & white Polaroid,
my mind

This morning was perfect.
Let’s get out of this city
Don’t die today
I’m calling you