There's no sign to tell you it's heading your way, no friendly face that pops up to say, don't worry it never lasts longer than the hours in a day, but what if you're a mayfly? that's a lifetime, throw me a lifeline or a bottle of pills.

Hills.

Peculiar things which we climb and the higher we go and yet cling on to the things that we know we never really leave the ground.

I have waited in subways expecting the writing to happen on the walls and that's a load of *****, if you don't pen it yourself it will never appear.

I don't go near subways now I prefer hoardings and boarded up basements crouching and whispering to ink out my fears on casements and windows, the bard of glass shards and broken down men.

I cut out imperfections to place in my scrap tray and they tell me,
it never lasts longer than the hours in a day.

It's funny though
I never know
what day that
will be.