The steam man

I thought I was climbing a big ‘un a brick of a chimney in Wigan. and if I dreamed of Dibnah who was after all, a great teacher who could blame me?…

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Runway number four

I wake to wingtips spreading out from fingers wrapped around a gun, the Sun decides to rise and risk my wrath, Monday blasts away and I’m shot down here to London, not like my home town but close enough with traffic comes and sleeping dogs that try to wake the sleeping policemen, Kentucky, pizza, ham…

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The dream rooms

it could have been so different if you hadn’t turned the screw but I’m sat here in some ante room thinking would I have done it too? No longer crying ’cause I’m dry but I’m swimming in those sunken tears and I know the reason why. I can’t get used to being used I can’t…

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The punch bowl

Do you ever dream that you’re flying? or wading in water that keeps getting deeper? I do, and I dream of floating in space holding the hands of the clock that turn on its face and I race, hard through the timber yard and out to the wood. You hear the beanstalk I say the…

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Bloodworks

rows upon rows that stretch down the street they butter shop windows with cold shuttered steel, ever feel that you’re not wanted? and what’s inside? is it so valuable? The sign says welcome but It’s so impersonal. It cuts both ways we close ourselves off from others and move through the days like the living…

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Mortality

I sleep it takes the ache away, for who’s to say when this will end?…

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