Thursday, June 05, 2014

June Blast 019

June Blast 019 
Jun 05 14:53

We have lived like this for years, unthinking

Specials Day

Eight Weeks Notice

Why the tree aches for sun

A man planning mayhem in the name of his God

I may be off-line for a while

Dragon Cuff-Links

The drapes are pulled across, the toilets smell

You can quote Hitchens all day

There are four hundred days left

When I die you may all agree about my character


A man in a distant room tidying his desk

Days go by: weeks. I let them gather dust

Send me roses, and when I die send thorns to priests

It was summer and I was so happy

Perception comes late; to a few

In an instant my house is cold and resentful

Shall I tell you how I spend my time?

There are Egyptians on the beach

And Greeks and Turks in the restaurants

My eyes are shaking

If I keep moving the painter will not finish

You remind me of someone's child


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