Monday, 11 June 2007

Monday Prompts

From somewhere, the sound of dancing

No blood is flowing, just red birds

Hitler was a British Agent

As if a fire was flickering gently

They bring us crushed fingers


A thousand years ago, the angels say

She climbed to the third floor

Her last words wandered across the ceiling

She glanced up from her creaking rocking-chair

The children work hard

Your return is overdue

Day has cast anchor in the shadows

I have heard the sobbing of angels

Two thousand cigarettes

Now I will change water into wine

A lady lonely as a rat

Birdcages flew open

No fiery writing on the wall

Mad New Zealanders

Above the fields the wires hissed like iguanas

In the name of the father, the son and the holy bank.

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