Friday, May 29, 2009

Friday Morning Prompts (2) at 07:10

M4, M5, M6, M42

A policeman in white dancing between cars

Stopping off at IKEA

I have stocks in the barn

Before, the shops are quiet, streets wait for feet

Grey brick upon grey

The day is suddenly rich, our friend

It might have worked but God was having none of it

A dirty dream of a rolling sun

I see from the paper that the last one is dead

All the needles, all the spoons


Scraping burnt-toast into the sink

Correctly, because he did it for his country

Up, down

His hands are black with blood. He loves his children.

Old, toothless soldiers

His eyes lived, but only his eyes, it was a trick

I would like to be collected

Young Christopher

Cows stumbling, enormous, slobbering cows

We were innocent then, on the banks of rivers

Who will it be, the last in the class to die, the first to live?

Sideways through the night

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