when the rain starts it’s time to get moving caught in a shower of words i escaped in time to see a gust of vowels whip down the street i had to turn away so I wouldn’t get a faceful. when i finally reach home i put on a record instrumental of course as i dry myself off one phrase at a time and look forward to a cup of t. »
On a not-unpleasant afternoon, I hopped off the train a couple of stops early and set off on a meandering path that would take me home through previously unchartered streets. The camera came out as I spied all manner of things – numbers, signs, playing cards and rusty scooters. This simple feeling of discovery, of anticipation when you turn a corner, is what keeps me alive. One day I’ll know every street in this town, and then it’ll be time to move on. »
I thought about saying “I saw you on the internet the other day” but held back, figuring it might not sound right. »
dream: I’m in a bare room, near the front of the house – I know this because I can hear people passing on the (rather busy) street outside. A housemate hums to herself, wandering the hallway while I sit on the floor and hug my knees. I’m not sure what we’re waiting for, but I hop up to look out the window at the passing human traffic when I notice some graffiti scrawled on the walls – one bit says “Ross Wilson gig, [day]/[month]/’77”. »
should I be angry about the government? man’s inhumanity to man? no wait i’ve got it it’s time to stop feeling angry. isn’t it? »