Binary

Let us go to face extinction

somewhere by the sea, like Frinton,

Tenby, maybe, or, at worst,

in a bungalow on the Yorkshire coast.

We’ll walk our old, arthritic dog

and watch him crap and tell him off

for balking at the absurd commands

we make believe he really understands

then drag him up the front and back.

We’ll take a flask and matching mac’s,

and a tartan ru…