Minimalist poet, minimalist lifestyle

Received a reply to my posting in the Doncaster Forum for a female dancing partner. the email actually came from a male dancing teacher who says that they're desperate for men in his salsa class.
I might as well go along and see what happens. At least I'm using the internet to make real life contact with people.

HAIKU

Carefully folding clean sheets:
Downstairs, only white notes on the piano.

HAIKU

Evening lightning;
The drawn sabre
At arm's length.

HAIKU

Aconites gathered
around the oak tree:
within sight of the stones
small children counting
only odd numbers.

As far as I can recall, if I don't receive anything through the letterbox this morning, it will have been an entire week without any mail...junk mail included. Surely a sign of social isolation.

However, in comparison, a couple of weeks ago I signed up online for the Telephone Preference Scheme and that doesn't seem to be effective yet: I'm still getting the phone calls from India from people with obviously Indian accents pretending they're called Kevin or Jenny...or whatever.

It's a sad world.

RUNNING ORDER

Suspicion
is the carrion
of slaves,
the handset of
the newest mindset,
a brush fire with conversation,
hedged bets down country lanes,
control freaked out of every situation:
a fringe recently parted to the left.