Monday, June 01, 2009

Prompts Monday June 1st 2009

The afternoon was flat, grey and ordinary

It is a big sky, too big

Walking into the weather, leaning on it

The fire died in the night

Not much wind, not too cold, not actually raining

Fifteen squaddies, a mini-bus, a football

A car puttered slowly up the road

The muscles of this place, how a house breathes

White-coated assistants in slow-frame

Winter rain rolled over her in an empty street

Doors opened with pinging bells.

Passing soft bread rolls in paper bags to solitary customers

A pastel town breathing in short, shallow breaths

Trying to conserve its body-fat

Cold Monday morning, six o'clock, November.

A winter-emptied window-box freshly forked

She dropped her shoulders

The windows were clean, the curtains drawn

Two black labradors.

It was someone's birthday and we all brought two bottles

They will, and when they do

The smell was no worse and she felt it should be

She switched her face back on


A man stops. He starts to recite a poem

A little permission is dangerous

Anger is better than despair

There's a dirty little hermit lives above the house

Love doesn't sleep and never should

Action isn't about joining


In Tescos they are doing a special, two for the price of three

Peas, possibly onions

Our Father, etc and the Holy Ghost and Stuff

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