She blows me kisseslike she’s blowing bridges,I put it down to herarmy training…
Monthly Archives: July 2020
More from the Globe…
The ink on the wall’s hardly drybefore someone has their eye on it it’s not a Banksy,but it’s still graffitiand worth a look. she takes interest,Shylockin a pink dress,but it’sShakespeare trying to impressmewith his moral turpitude. (turpitude)oh and what a lovely word that be…
Issues
You do knowthat they will makea pillto make everyone forgetthat everyone was ill, they are really sick. Memoryalways there to remind usof the things that we leftfar behind usand I remember writing thatbefore,but if I take the pillthe chances areI won’t remember thatanymore…
Aircraft
I think every aeroplane that I seeis on a bombing run and out just for me, is it just me,am I responsible for my own despondency? he dreams of inspirationlike a loner dreams ofisolation not my faultI am not to blame,but the fall-out’sgot everyone’s nameon it, helicopterssprayingagent orangeagent black,back to Captain Scarlet,.everyone’s a Mysteron…
Pieces
This is the nightmare that we try to wake from,the Halloween approaching midnight,the last supper before the last morningthis isthe empire of illusion don’t let them confuse youifthat’s what they’re aiming to do. this is not an old horror showor‘war of the worlds’narrated by Orson Welles,this is not radio, this is us being broken…
More happiness from grumpy
Iam writing my own obituaryknowing thatthey are coming to get meand theycould be anyone, anything,something and nothing usually is. Depress your tongue and runtrust no one. do not walk towards the lightit’s a gun with a laser-guidedsight. it’s not red tapeit’s duct tape andwe’re bound by it…
That moment has left the station
The older one getsthe harder things are,haand if you believe that,welllet’s not go down thathelter-skelter. Random?butI’ve just been woken. The remnant. unpicked to lick my woundswhich becomes harder asone gets older,and back to thehelter-skelter. I’m going for coffeebefore someone decidesto ‘off me’…
One more bible story
She hangs there like Magdalenaon an olive branch overlookingthe sea, clue,she’s not waiting for a taxi. Sometime back shewanted for moresome time back shegot what she waited for. now she hangs silentlyhoping her saviourwill return…
Covid & co
We are coming backbut it won’t be the same, we’ve been crippled,made lameby something thatthey gave the name toand who cares what itis called when it’s who it hasculled that counts. thoughts like thisshould taper offover the edgeoff the cliffwhere we have beenstandingbut they stay and thisis what will haunt us the politicians that have…
BBC radio
I always thoughtSelsey Billwas a piratein leaguewithLong John, thanks to theshipping forecastthat notionhas now gone. how could this day getany worse…
The depth of clouds
The problem isyou still think it’ssomewhere over the rainbowand that one day we’ll enterinto ‘Harper Valley’butit’s not realthey’rejust words in a song. the ‘last train toClarksville’leftyears ago…
Monday is a one-way motorway
Justiceorjust ice? fissures are viciousand we all crack,you’re not the only one. God!today is gloomyormaybe misery tooka room in meand is nowclaiming squatters rights. there’ll be a turn offsomewhere I can burn offthis mood. on the flip sidefoodis a great comfort…
The corporation killed Kenny
Someone has to go andwe all know who that’sgoing to be, poor Kennynever gets any love. South Park is a very darkplace and if your facedon’t fit, tough…
(africanus) 2
The agapanthus! it’s still therein the gardengrowling I’m sure that it’s a lion…
The idle curious
Seagulls in Stratford,justscavengers on the wingeating mostly everythingbutusuallymy chips…
Are you getting this?
bad newsmad newswho’s fed up? lockdown is liftedviewpoints then shiftedand lockdown’s notlifted no more. Feeling ‘Hotel California?’we told ya thatno one would warn youbutyou went and checked in…
telegram
First,they’ll distance youthenthey’ll come for you,stop…
Tall man walking
I’m pretty certainthat my internalguidance systemhas a‘let’s get him lost function’ and this kicks inevery thousand kliksor so…
Oh!
Jimmy Mac’s playingon the radioI’m reading Kerouacbut it’s going slowand I don’t know whatI’m doing up at thisunearthly hour. Anywaysleep is overratedwhen you’re sixty-fourand feel outdated I wonder if it’s truedowe all get old? noit’s probablynot…
Senses
Listening to the signals that point in many ways,sorting out the chatter from the maelstrom thatmakes wavesand trying to understand it saves my sanity,knowing that it’s not just meknowing that the signs are there foreveryone to seeand all we do is listen…
