Fluffy Clouds of Filth

The sheep don’t speak here,

They don’t even smile,

One wagged its tail when I called - but then ran like the others,

Shit spilling out its arse like wet breadcrumbs to the turf,

A dagged fairytale,

A path I won’t follow,

I’ll take my chances in the woods,

Where my footsteps will fade,

Forgotten by people, forgiven by time,

If only I could walk on clouds,

You’d never know I was here,

Much to the sheep’s relief.

And mine.