french whispers
music elongated in tall shadows
a mirror of colour
a psychiatric drug which cures weed addiction
yeah i wanna swallow a spider to catch a fly
these are the journals of the being in time
sweet being in time
contained by time at every place
strings pulled sidereal
renaissance man class 2/3
music tick
words tick
painting tick
singing tick
acting little tick
inventor no tick
sculpture no tick
dancer no tick
an oboey clarinet dissolves in fractals n shards
kilbey
warm comfort
smell of a slightly burnt bagel
dear friend matty c in sjukhus
in coma with pipe in throat
why god oh why why why
god heal them all
think about leslie
better for him to depart bang! sudden-like
but he already went through one hell in war #2
never to meet minna or the woofle
how safe and warm i felt with him
he was normality personified
when he appeared
the music is like a howling wind
some echo traps it and it repeats into kaleidoscopic distance
i am olde today
the years i hoped would go away
my liver groans under the sheer weight of all the chemicals
my brain shrinks into a sponge of curdled ideas
skin hangs of bones
bones crumble
all things turn inwards
inside working on the big equation
mathematics no tick
science no tick
greek mythology tick
hindu cosmology tick
all is vibration
scarlet in her pink dressing gown
emails to answer
responsibilities to shoulder
shoulders to un-ache
worries to worry about
commerce no tick
finances no tick
music ascends in gently quivering cascades
up up up
leslies birthday 3rd of march
eventually you are completely forgotten
swallowed up by time
whats the time
its 830
eve says its a lovely day cant we stay home from school
aurora joins in
no you must go to sausage factory
to learn to just cope with this monster you never asked for
you must register be signed up be innoculated be categorised
be trained work hard be selected be a cog in the grate machine
youll need husbands n bosses n kids n degrees n beemers n toasters
youll need doctors n electricians n beauty salons n niteclubs
entertainer little tick
father little tick
the music fades into a cylindrical tunnel of silence
the children chirrup n chatter
the garbage trucks arrive
garbos with mobile phones
dogs run around pissing on posts
the sun pops up
the friendlier autumnal sun
a lovely day dawns for some
down the pool to swim in the sauna
another day after another
thus was it always
swings n roundabouts
kilbey sign off now
kilbey disappear into this day
kilbey walk n talk with sweet children in time
for time being