Thursday, 19 April 2007

Prompts for Friday 20th April

Swerving east, from rich industrial shadows

Cat, Microwave...

For I have known them already, known them all


This was Mr Bleaney's room

He was a pederast, but discreet

After the novels, after the tea-cups, after the skirts that trail along the floor

Fond of bananas

She kept her songs, they took so little space


These with a thousand small deliberations

The acidity of milk

Slowly the women file to where he stands


Under the brown fog of a winter dawn

The note you hold, narrowing and rising

My nerves are bad tonight. Yes, bad! Stay with me.

Home is so sad, it stays as it was left

And the night fires going out, the lack of shelters

All afternoon, through the tall heat

And I was travelling lightly, barefoot

And the money he gets from wasting his life on work

Hard to believe him when he trundles in, scrubbed up and squeaky-clean

The large cool store selling cheap clothes

They set about him with a knife and fork

Strange to know nothing, never to be sure

Anyone here had a go at themselves, for a laugh? Anyone opened their wrists with a blade in the bath?

The leaves fall in ones and twos

Blessed are dogs, for they shall run over busses

On the third night, footsteps in the attic-space

When it comes to nailing down the lid

I rate myself as a happy, contented person

The minute in the phone box with the coin

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