bichoose (bichoose) wrote,
bichoose
bichoose

Monday 28th September 2020.

Autumn is a word that fills my mind with dread so much darkness, so much grey cloud base each coating of sunshine is an after thought by mother nature, so much rain and thats not even political and thus i begin a journey with melancholy madness sitting on one shoulder to whisper in my ear...as each falling leaf finally rests on the ground amongst the discarded pizza box lids...It is a time when i gather some memories of bare foot beaches i have trod around the world on to fit in my back pockets to fight the tide of doom and gloom washing up through the coarse of each day until the month of May unzips herself amongst the hedgerows as melancholy madness thrutches itself to a final orgasm down the back side of  Hawthorn tree in a gutter snipe. Eight months of Autumn Winter is enough to make a shepherd fuck his dog, now perhaps one of those old sayings that has passed down the left hand side of wordage used amongst the scruffs under the neon street lights of yesteryear. It will take me a few weeks to pull on my armour to slip through these next eight months possibly humming the tune of the Box Tops 1967 song..The letter..as my tiny red van trundles along the few cobbled streets untouched by modern politics and double yellow lines where traffic wardens hunt in pairs and arm wrestle with sneaky Covid Police whom sing their own song Gotta pick a pocket or two...

In the meantime to all whom pass this way..Love and Peace and take care....x
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