walk down the street on a cloudy day listening to that old band it’s not your memory of being in some smoky bar it’s theirs but it hurts anyway you’ll never be there again you’re not allowed to be alone again these days so many thoughts crowd your head jolting your private moments like an alarm clock all wanting attention right now. »
We didn’t run for the train we’d already run for the tram which seemed like enough effort for one journey and anyway as we walked up the ramp to the station we heard the wonderful sounds of somebody playing a nice, red accordion from a townhouse balcony across the street i love this city and i love the inner suburbs for moments like this. »
dream: I drop in to visit my first ever workplace. The old boss is still there, talking to somebody until he notices me standing there. He turns to smile at me and with a glint in his eye, asks if I’d like some scones. Later, I talk to an ex-co-worker, who’d returned there after working in other companies. I make some comment about how hard it is to remember old names after working in so many different places, for so many different people. »
the music helps to walk a little faster but the feeling inside won’t change not yet uncertainty’s chained to my arms making my photographs a little blurrier than they ought to be by now. “it’s time” says the cold wind on my neck what has to come is coming but what needs doing still needs to be done »
we were here to go but time passed us by with a rush of cold air and a little sulphurous whiff so now we’re just here. maybe the ride down could be more fun if such were allowed. »