Comfortable in the knowledge that
It's Wednesday
the earth is flat and fried eggs do not roll,
I am digging ditches, making holes, taking time to feed the innards of this soul
I do believe sense can be made of noughts and crosses if they're laid down end to end.

As you can see
the madness has infected me
although to be fair
I'm sure that it was always there.


if you can or cannot understand, if you plan your day accordingly
like me you'll see it's just a magic show.

On I go
forwards to obscurity
and I won't mind if you
forget me,
I will remember you.

there could be poison in the air
if that's so
I wonder where it came from.

and belatedly my senses all return
I long for,
nay I yearn for
that which could be more.

In trying to put lines upon the screen
I've tried and seen and cried and pried dried ink from life kissed hands,
but no one understands the tortures I've endured

and now assured of a better future the sun comes out
the lights go off

It's always a trade
something destroyed as
dreams are made and
noughts and crosses
laid end to end.