A tourniquet for tomorrow

Wit is and then it’s not but I have coffee when she looks at me like that and when her looks look like they’ll knock me flat there’s always that to fall back upon. The night has gone because all nights do and ghosts are laid to rest as the daylight floods into my eyes…

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Springs and things

It is I that is wound up tightly, so the clock strikes me as being somewhat superfluous the chimes unmelodious and the case just an atlas in which to hide the map of my days. In the hourglass two ships both of them sinking while I sit here thinking what a waste. yet we cheer…

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The pyramid fixer

Using the art of triangulation I plot what I think’s my position, the universe thinks differently and expands my point of view. The creator, a failed realtor or what? Celestial snooker. To lose one world is unfortunate and so on and so on, but it goes on and in the end it will end nothing…

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…and now we’re firing on all cylinders

Into Stratford careering through the static lines of Christians paying church some time and tithe, but tide and tithe waits not for me sailing through the shopping sea stopping only at the checkout to check out and get in the swing of it…

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