bichoose (bichoose) wrote,
bichoose
bichoose

Sunday 19th August 2007.

My mind today is befuddled,all thoughts of retraining to be a Vulva Boatman have decreased, the boat has been becalmed, Coleridge lurks behind the horizon some lines from a verse begin to play,the gargoyles goblins sat on my shoulder pull tight their pink laces they at least can picture some fun on this dull overcast dying August day.My body is tired to many triple shifts at my age is perhaps not good, the driving force the lure of the perfect beach,has yet to be found,airline tickets flutter, as if drawn curtains drive on,a glimpse of my mother who used to have summer and winter curtains fades in,i shake my head to get rid,i wrote about rainy Manchester...H...replied that he would rather be in rainy Manchester than Nevada..??..Instantly W.G's..this land is your land mumbled across my lips diamond deserts..maybe WG wrote tongue in cheek,however whilst my inner voice cracked to this,the gargoyles goblins played tricks would it not be good,simply impossible,plain crazy just to slip in a transfer note for a short while,to swap places,could this happen in the future,would such a thing bring wars to a close,or is the animal urge to biff, boff, bash,far too great to combat.I could leave the keys of my tiny red van,keys of the wine cellar,the vacant place in the main bed,or would the mind become too comfortable and not want to return back??.
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