A matador shows his collie the airship. Unimpressed, as all dogs are by flying ships, it tries to bite its lead instead. ‘If only collies knew the joys of sitting above the earth....’ he ponders to himself out loud. He returns to tying up the frost. The currents from the airship and the disinterested dog, making his task near on impossible.
a mole hill
crowned w/ snow
winter moon
Gnats sleep tightly, their pillows propped up w/ books on the tactics of the ’85 Chicago bears, dreaming of Albion. ‘It is looking for ceilidh and tennis.’ Warns a weather man.
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