sunny bank holiday just behind us, yesterday was particularly breezy, as we were breezing into a long succession of impromptu social situations, and everything fell into place and then sunk a little too deep into...excessive drinking and stuff. the best memory is sitting on my favourite meadow on the heath having a mainly liquid picnic, and talking in that relaxed slightly detached way that comes from a collective public holiday taking over your mood, making you more reflective...
well it all ended in a buzzy bar in Soho, for a reason, and something i don't think I'll forget for a while, hmmm,
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It Who no longer can listen It Saw a gusty wind Come up to listen Before I was ten and all of the evil grids From a hill where rats consider And they gang And they topple And they send a smoke ring Into the onion field A ghost! And this can make you choke Coming from the throat Of a ghost! And sent to my weak knees From a voice plantation All in together In terror
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About Me
- thomas
- Welcome to my online scrapbook: there is no real focus here but you will find writings about music, literature, arts, walks, 80s and 90s nostalgia etc., some creative writing, lots of photography and other experiments in presenting thoughts and recordings of who i am, what i do and where i am going. hope you enjoy it!
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