Skirting Board

She stares at the skirting board as her
thoughts skirt
bored
around the edges of something.

Something she can’t articulate.

Or won’t.

Or not yet.

She looks at her list
listlessly
as she lists
in her seat
in her mind
out of her mind.

She’s listing now,
list abandoned,
listing out on a sea
of bored thoughts
skirting round her
in great skirts.

Something she can’t articulate.

Or won’t.

Or not yet.

James Cathcart

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