the heel of the boot iv

toggle be,
the jazziest beaver
i am untartened,
a border reiver
amaro montenegro,
an iron brew
why am i feart
of mosquitos
i’ve already been
bit like 40 goes
got one back
like cracking
human blood goo
from a winged black egg

my girlfriend likes to wear neck scarfs, so i got her a toggle, a bit like i used to have when i was in cubs. i left long before i got to scouts, where i would have been outed re my lack of a clan tartan, being a border reiver by birth. for long us benns have walked in the wilderness, reading aloud our poetry, making love under the king’s moon on english wildflower meadows, and pinching livestock. always getting bit by insects.