bichoose (bichoose) wrote,

Wednesday 2rd January 2008.

The Chardonnay glass has, perhaps, one more gentle sip languishing,i pick it up hold to the light swirl and return,i can hear the wind picking up outside the window on to the world,perhaps i have made it once more through a bleak winters day should i congratulate myself or simply shrug and take for granted.The commercial festive season is ebbing away,the money-men are in their counting houses,machines switched full pelt are already flicking out credit card statements, already i return to the bearer of bad news,the curtains,rubber wellies,rabid dogs behind the letter boxes cannot stem the tide the wheel turns the world trips on i am bonded on a tight rope i now have a strong feeling to fall off,probably the same feeling for those who slip their credit cards across the counter, alas the oxen still pulls strong.That old Protestant work ethic beats on,those who have escaped i salute..hail to rebellious gnostic doo-whops everywhere your slippery porcelain cocks still fill me with envy, as someone wrote today once a cocksucker always a cocksucker how very true.I think i could also add transvestite to that eternal bucket of life how ever many times i have bundled everything up in black bin bags,scuttled in the night dancing under neon to launch across night air thinking that is it i am cured,until this tiny gremlin begins whispering in my ear until the rhubarb tapestry beats the dormant seed to once more grow,a cold turkey for the feel of cloth on skin burns bubbles before my eyes..before i pop,burst,belly dance across the world,i surrender,but at least i do not let the gremlin see me smile nowadays and as the sales are still on and probably rags are all that is left...i will not refill my chardonnay glass to night as i might go shopping on the morrow.

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