THURSDAY January 7th

00:01

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I am building a machine

The marks on your naked shoulder

I’ve done it, but not without a deal of trouble

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Blind feet, deaf fingers

Always remember: Editors don’t understand…

Draw blood from the coffee machine

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I’d like to try Australian stars

Love stones and the wind; beware the sea!

We do not need pianos

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A morning like freshly-brushed teeth

Once, when a cat shat in my bed

The curse is overturned: the people speak!

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My daughter - reading my poems

Trees, frying-pans, cameras, typewriter.

Have you forgotten how bad it was?

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Someone pushed a note beneath my door

I’m fast. I wouldn’t want to be faster

I know I should not play with toys

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The cruelty of black & white

It is Fall, the streets are gold

Every December, I clear my desk

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I hear the sewer-tunnels weeping

Sit in an empty room. Wait.

Candy-floss, Sticks of Rock, Thoughts about dying.

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I think a lot about my ex-wives

Has McDonald’s reached Tahiti?

They took my money. I didn’t care, but they 

shat inside my guitar and that cannot be forgiven