Lights on

Getting it down Staring at the stop signthe clock set to the right timethe light should be on green to gobutit’s Wednesday and we know thatit’s a neither here nor there dayand for someit’s a bad hair day, a how did Iend up here day,sohalfway through the week I laywaiting for the lights to change…

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When there is too

We make our own love songand sing it as we move along,breathing’s optional when we kissbut difficult all the same and thebonus prize is in your eyes everytime they smile at me…

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Meaner streets

In those alleywayswhere the days werespent loosely andwhere honesty was stolen property, yesthose who were castaway neededfor all and for nothing,and they became indifferent toalmost everything…

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I always think that

The ghost of Christmas yet to comehas got to be a lot more fun. Marley and his chainsReindeer flyingSanta at the reins and we go to so many painsto make believe it’s true…

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The river bank plc

On the fly fishingor as some call it,poaching, that’s like money for old ropeor trout for nowt as they sayup in Lancashire. If looks can’t killthe flatfish flukeswill,try saying that aftera schooner or two…

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The A-frame architect

NextI’ll make some flowers grown from seeds,better put in some weeds, a bit of rainnow and thenooh, nearly forgot the colours and shapes,and when I get around to itI’ll throw in some ferns and hit return God and his codingputting loads of time into make things look pretty, pretty goodI think…

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It comes to this

Put your glad rags onand be glad you cancan you?hanot the can-canwhich you mayhapthought I meant. but we all can, can do,even me too,so with that in mindI’m off to finda dance class…

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Smelling salts

Saturdaythink I’ll lay here for a while to ‘gather myself’ oh god! ‘gather myself?’ where did that come from? Grandma used to say that, but she was ancient,a Victorian Lancastrian. I can’t be her age alreadythat wouldn’t be cricketand not British either, Keeping a stiff upper lipkeeping the rest of things private…

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Andy Pandy

Tier tworow fourseat fiveandwe’re getting there, This is like‘Watch with Mother’the way they talk to youas ifwe didn’t understand. WellMother’s goneI don’t have a TVand I know exactlywhat I knewyesterdaywhich is always the waywhen you’re a day behind…

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Intermittent signals

It seemed the right thing to dodoing it with you. Open sesame, says heoutside the door where thewanting is more than the need…

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Cocoa Pop

Time drops its hints on me andlike pigeons shitting on the Queenscavalry,no charge. At present, the funeral industry does not excite methey’re still trying though to sell me a policy. But we’re all getting ancient,monuments to compound interest, and I expect even if I’m not an expertthat after Brexit we’ll ditch the decimalin favour of…

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Love’s like that sometimes

when you are in conversation with the angeland you’re falling to a conclusion,the solution you were seeking seems so clear. But it’s always the terminal velocitythat strikes fear into the heart of men, Live and learn, not always truesome never dosome never willliveor learn, he turns the pages quicklybefore the truth hits home,that he’s falling…

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Seance in the parlour

The more we hearthe more we fearthe sooner the tiers will end. last week which took a month to get throughwas more to do with being locked down than locked in, I listened to Sunak, read Balsac, ate a Kit-Kat andsat like a fat cat, legs splayed, whiskers twitching,stitching my dreams into the night…

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Scratches head and blinks

We could think about itand then we could thinkon it,think our way around itand then forget it, thinking never did doing any good at allwhen doing good is more thanabout thinking about doing it, I’m losing it. heading towards the fourth dementiathat comes later than the third dimensionwhich is probably two weeks after I getmy…

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Wtf #56

What time is it? said the deerbecause the wolves had been wiped out. Not Wednesday,but it wasand it used to be halfwaythrough the week,nowwe’re playing hide and seekwith a deadly virus, why us?why the wolves? I’m bored, but I’m still alive,said the deer…

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The future is here.

Lockdown threewill probably kill mebutdon’t let that worry youbecauseit’ll probably kill you too. We were a sociable societyfilled now with anxiety andthat overwhelming senseof dread,andit’s not all in my headI read the factslook at the statsbut I’m still going batsandif it does kill mewho’ll bury me?not youbecauseyou’ll need burying too. we’re screweddown…

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Shh..

Still here,very still hereno bird songno traffic moving alongthe street,nothing but mekeeping companywith the night…

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Purgatory blue

But what if we never came backand end up as groove in a trackon a record that’s stuck in the twenties? there’d be no moreno ever afterjust scratches on parchmentdevoid oflife and love and laughterandwhat if we never came back?is it worth it to try something newwhen nothing is who we become? I hate poets…

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Oxford

Not the outer limits but the inner rings of quantum fantasy, futuristic?a bit like Star Trek used to beboldly goingquantumly…

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Square peg

Sometimes on Mondaylike this Mondaywhich will be last Mondaynext MondayI’m tired before I fit in…

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