Sunday 1 July 2007

Live Blast Sessions Tonight

Here is the first 6PM

EDecember. Another Monday!
Early. Cold. Crisp. Black.
Firewood wrapped in newspaper
He drew love from his small body
Pig, running
Riding the crossbar
Self-levelling concrete.
He was breathing slowly.
I have forgotten my teachers
I have wrapped up the memories of my father
I taught myself to please him
I was all hers as we peeled potatoes
It's not the hens that matter, it's eggs
My father rode a horse, chasing gypsies
My mother sewed. I don't know what she thought about
One hundred and one tricks
Oxo
Children under, say, ten, shouldn't know

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