Borders

Wasting time to think of the sorrow when yesterday only gives us tomorrow, there’s time enough to put by to sit there and cry and time to reflect. The clock’s just a windmill uphill mostly, but at the top when we stop before the mad rush downhill time’s still the windmill we struggled so hard…

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Pulling into paradise

light me up a Marlboro’ or better still a Lucky Strike and I’ll match you with a partner for tonight’s an open mic’ husky voiced and cellulose she talks through her nose because her tongue’s worn out (old joke, whatya expect? an Exocet?) Anyway and it’s anyhow that gets us through the day and what…

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Warming up

  Doo be or doo be doo “that’s not a question” she said, from the kitchen I was in bed listening to music waiting for breakfast   it was Saturday somewhere but my hair needed brushing then the blood starts its rushing and I’m back   she brings in the cornflakes the bed creaks.  …

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