wow i thought after reading such a short scribble,my mind today feels kindly towards Retrousse' snippets of words have delighted me,pictures of matchstick men revert among the dainty cushions, my tired mind happened to cross amongst the ever searching blow monkey's,.." In My Chair "..was a classic, i have not heard such a motion for simply ages.It blew my mind into shreds so long ago i cannot remember every shred blowin in the wind.
Diamonds dogs bite in the most unusual places, i could not help today from passing the man who sold the world,the corner cupboard is bare the flintstones cry enough for milk of hope.I wonder what Tom Highway would have thought with all this red tape dressed in crimson silk.
Perhaps he could have sorted the mess simply. But then, where would the Wig sellers depart too,perhaps simply to watch the flowers grow,which means the grave yards,do not even fill the whole nine yards.
Come gather around, lets us whisper,as men what the fuck is happening with this world,dainty shoes are for dancing,comfortable shoes eat the best cherries, moon beans are for angels who fear to tread on the carbuncles of tender old farts,three to a bed the crimson tide is all we have deep down in the leaf mould..i told you so rings in the ears do we take any notice perhaps not.
Maybe i should not say we,but gather roses in a trillion shade pink,should the ships rool in butchers boys sing hard rain foottappers and shunters where have they all gone,lingering in the crimson,hand in hand, the lurch home springs chickens arrive....fresh from the nesting zone...clone me you soft sod...But never mind the zions will pinch nipples and bath amongst counting daisy chains......