A poem by Jude Cowan Montague

  Morning Walk Five straggling mongrels moseyed through a sentence just to keep a tourist company . One spotted a frog, leapt into a ditch then there were four disreputable flea-bags lolling in and out of tongues, licking the nose of the lost English. One saw a cicada flew barking in the ether then there were three motley mutts answering the foreign nutter who didn’t … Continue reading A poem by Jude Cowan Montague