it’s time to take stock
and get myself together
and get milk.. and bread..

so that’s the story

have i told you this before?

i lose track sometimes

i can time-travel

…i guess its ‘hibernating’

it really works though

on the radio

you struggle reading adverts

wordplay falling flat

wake in an orchard

sunlight breaks through the branches

grass between my toes

circular logic

you can’t concede to yourself

this isn’t over

some minutes later
i notice i’m on fire
the rain never comes

she climbs the gutter

a huge knife between her teeth

someone has to pay

air leaks from the room

i reach out to touch your hand

my arm halts, frozen

having faith in doubt
all metaphysical thought
stems from fear of death

an old puzzle box
that opens a door to hell
two quid from oxfam

a rain-drenched rooftop
my social life has suffered
working as a spy

so that’s the story

have i told you this before?

i lose track sometimes

it may always be like this