my private amsterdam... in het oog

live at your own risk in the back garden shed,

downtrodden by division rules and rained on for a year...

"all the birds have built a nest except me and you",

while we are still waiting for the boot out the front door...

within a dry home, there are new houses supplied,

but none has come to occupy these pre-fab boxes...

despite the fluttering banners to attract the eye,

do they guarantee "transitional/life-giving/preciousness"?

it is more futile now to labour for the mighty euro,

when the one cent can no longer be strung along...

a horse to the rescue when the canals overflow,

if all the money in the world cannot save you...

better build on water and trust the bridges to hold,

or sail again for borneo to clear more jungleland...

the amsterbird stays lodged up in her treehouse,

watching for T and H to return to their lovenest...