Prologue

So, they go over to this hypo-chondriated chamber, there is no oxygen but a semi-green-blue fume coming out of what looks like a gas chamber, it is getting cold in the embriated screen, with hardly a touch of isolation. A wonderful dream, yet without an end.

Bring some more, and let us watch the final.

Why are you acting so paranoid? I will punch you in the face, for all the reasons we discussed Warsaw.

01 December 2008

An ode to sitting at the bar, and serving at the table;

Tonight was the last night i would say the C word

Looking through passing time,

And thinking of all the things that gone by,

An year of thinking,

Suddenly slo-mo, the turn of time,

And the turn of events.

This friend of mine always used to say,

Why do you roam all around and come back to the same spot,

When you can begin at the spot.

Well its just a matter of forced indecision, I say to that.

From the way she walked,

She looked good walking,

And she did talk to someone,

The guy who looked like he could kill for her.

But wouldn’t do that now,

It was just a moment of fragility,

Ensconsed in realms of wood.

And then there was this road,

Dusty and gritty,

As the ‘put it straight’ friend would call it.

Well, dusty and gritty it is then.

Lets leave it at that.

And think of the thoughts that crossed our minds,

At that street,

As it grew dust and inspired flashes of grit.