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Monday 20th June 2011

 The worst day of the week has perhaps only ninety minutes remaining.....i will not be here to see them out for i must drop off into the cabbage patch of darkness ready to wait to hear the puckering of demon feet crawling from behind the wall paper it has been so for the last forty-six years we should at least now be on good terms or at least the poking out of tongues,the pulling of ugly faces and the chanting of mad ducks in flight....but in all this perhaps not maybe they are simply dreams beyond the space where no man has ever trod..therefore i shall say good night to my old dear friend King Canute whom has been with me of such an age,perhaps since i sat and watched him amongst the pebbled shores the soaring seagulls  trying to turn the tide.So Goeth. 

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bichoose
bichoose

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