Free me from the grind of 'strong and stable leadership', and from the organist's 'coalition of chaos'; loosen these ties of spin-doctored lines, and let the monkeys dance to an original lie.
Today I faced up to The Future - a rather distrustful chap - he bowed low before my person - but this man is full of such crap .../
A bonfire of all certainties has been built under me - of timbers - by unseen hands - crossed over and lain on a cold heart - that core of devoutly-snapped sticks .../
when the inner scrape of your head is as soiled as the swallow in your mouth and your stomach revolts almost ready to reintroduce the Italian that swill in your gut another spill of red then you have finally lived
He has cut the grass around Stonehenge for twenty summers, end-to-end, ever concentric, from outer to inner, he pulls out blades with the retreat of winter. He knows each slab, the Welsh-ness within, those dragged-erect stones and the truths they contain. As the mulch and spewed grass build high in his bin, the circling grass-cutter … Continue reading The Mower
I delete another email from Michael J. Fox and his evangelist cry that PD rocks! .../
He is accelerating into a compression of constant slowing ...
I half-stand ring-centred, in our squared kitchen, just upright, aware of the transmitted box of blows, these roundings upon me, and that scream-spat radio: Yes, I feel beaten, as though I should throw in my towel, now surrender, step down, no longer the heavyweight, me, the former title holder, in these endless rounds.