a trip to praha

a man secretly enjoys being searched by the guard at the security gate...

a telephone flies into the toilet, flashing the message 'enhancement has not been accepted'...

men and women in prague seemingly subjected to a mysterious form of violence which sees the city swarm with braces, casts, crutches, orthopaedic corsets, finger supports, wristbands, wheelchairs, walking sticks, kneepads, plasters, wailing sirens...

a newly formed couple shyly hide away their kisses...

and an abandoned cod-piece gingerly goes round and round on the conveyor belt...

to start again, it is hard

i take a long hard look at the blank box (blank sheet, blank canvass). the box stares back and dares: fill me with words, just you try...

one day the stories came, and another they went away. once there were princesses and mice and dragons and a girl... maybe the got caught on the tail of a cumulus nimbus, somewhere in between london, joburg, sao paulo, montevideo... somewhere on the way from here to there to nowhere. somewhere on this journey, walking backwards into the future. maybe they will fall back to earth disoriented from the storm... a dishevelled princess wandering the streets of lubumbashi, a puny dragon caught up in the maelstrom of carnival in rio, mice scuttling across the andes, and a girl, a girl, a girl, stuck in london, looking around, trying to find where her feet are standing now.

things we have in common

i asked him 'what's wrong with you?' and he listed all the things that are wrong with me too.

patches

blue jeans black top
kissing at the bus stop
twenty million miles away from you
sparks fly
pram wielding teenagers pop
a mascarade carnival queen
orange juice terror
low lying clouds pressing down
champagne stories repeated
one day you will call and i may answer
one day you will call and i
one day you... and i...
blue jeans and a sparkly top

numerology

number 9: multi-talented, compassionate, and impartial. a humanitarian, who seeks opportunities to help others.

storytelling for the end of the world

it was the best of times and the worst of times, the moon had stopped shining for nine days now. it had simply disappeared and now all you had to look up to was a big black hole hovering just over the tall building on the right hand side of the city skyline. in the day the lack of moon still made its mark. the cats looked disconcerted and girls wandered about with sad smiles awkwardly perched on their pretty faces. i wanted to tell them it was not going to last, but what did i know. the sun had also lost its sheen. nothing mattered anymore now the moon was gone. i thought about how it would have happened. 'i can't stay here any longer' she must have thought. and packed a bag. and left for good.

it was a mistake

on application to new post do not forget to include the following information: current salary, reason for leaving.

current salary. salty water. beach holidays. licking damp skin. ice cream. flight. distance running. walking shoes. balancing act. romantic comedy. fake orgasm. shattered smile. stiff. tense. past perfect. flawless skin. leather outfit. steak and kidney pie. oyster card. london weather. reason for leaving.