#buckingham
I trace my finger around. With red lipstick on I wear the skin of the pets I had, looking like a marigold shot through the head, my bare skin is barbed in the back. Such trouble and quiet with the wrap-around, the cross-walk, and floral shop as I browse. The white elephant in the upstairs bedroom, is making it hard for every one of us to sleep. With this Africa becomes a disease, that I unwrap from a cotton white sheet. When I breathe life is going good, under the spells of wicked and word. I like to call out in the night, so with no response I can plead for the courage to think; all the suburban philistines try to help me, but I can't tell a joke because I cannot read. Every thing amounts to being fat. Or liquidated in the most pathetic singles party for Karl Lagerfeld.
Numb fingers slur the words as I type telephone numbers that end in threes. I see a notice to be called upon, but it's hard to remember what day it is when your job only pays you in financial advice, "Don't do as I do, but please just do what I say." And I can smell that. The approach that a hunter brews in his midnight solemn cup of tea. Where a voice chimes in while a mouse runs out, dragging the corners of my eyes in a lagging meme, it doesn't do well to even be yourself sometimes, once while traveling I couldn't see. Come that morning I had left my hotel pass inside my favorite pants, black denim toting paint from a ******** shot, a picture that explains my disease.
The fifty inch fan hums an anonymous tune that when I turn quickly towards it becomes this feral baboon. And is it hardly based on fact or is it the illusions and the myths that Christopher Robins struck inside of me. With his griseous hands made of soot and of gouache, that worshipped animals that wear clothes outside. And even sometimes there are z's that transform into other creatures that hum real fast and talk out loud in nursery rhymes, a Whatsit and a Woozel are totally, too much for me. I turn the fan off and lay back down, and fight the world off with hands from another guy, much braver than I who doesn't even have tattoos but he's the top wordsmith from Buckingham. What a beautiful treat and such a magnificent surprise that the elephant lays down to die. Of course that's when my mouth dries up with smoke and my voice turns into the vanilla flavoring that everyone hates, and then too I felt like laying down to die. But I'm not 97 like I had thought I'm quite sure that I'm still alive. The white moon shines into my bedroom window at night and I pretend that I direct for the sky.
Apr 26, 2014
Apr 26, 2014 at 5:24 AM UTC
HER MAJESTY LOVES A TIBBLE
AND A LITTLE NIP OF GIN
SHE IS AT AN AGE NOW
WHEN THE PARTY WILL BEGIN
LEAVE HER MAJESTY ALONE
A LITTLE TIBBLE IS NOT BAD
FOR AT PARTIES AT THE PALACE
SHE PARTIES LIKE MAD
I HAVE JUST RECEIVED THE ILLUSTRATIONS FOR THE TRUMP CHRONICLES THEY ARE OUTSTANDING THIS BOOK WILL BE THE MOST INCREDIBLE PORTRAYAL OF PRESIDENT TRUMP ANY WHERE IN THE WORLD.
RELEASE END OF AUGUST.
Aug 4, 2017
Aug 4, 2017 at 5:46 PM UTC
2018 IS NOW HERE
TRUMP CHRONICLES IS IN THE HOUSE
PRESIDENT TRUMP IS READING THEM
NOTHING IS STURRING BUT A MOUSE
TRUMP CHRONICLES IS ALSO IN THE PALACE
WITH ANOTHER CARD FROM THE QUEEN
I NOW HAVE A GREAT COLLECTION
LIKE NEVER EVER BEFORE SEEN
ANOTHER 5 BOOKS WILL BE RELEASED
IN MY COLLECTION TO BEHOLD
THERE WILL BE 19 IN THE ANTHOLOGY
MY STORY NOW CAN BE TOLD
19 BOOKS FOR THE WORLD TOO SEE
ARE ALL AVAILABLE ON amazon.com
COME ON WORLD HAVE A LOOK
AND SEE WHERE I AM FROM
Feb 3, 2018
Feb 3, 2018 at 10:52 PM UTC
Lydia and I got off the train
at London Victoria train station
and she said
how far is it
to the Palace?
not far
I said
just a short walk
so we came out
of the station
and crossed the road
(I held her hand tight)
then along a longer road
passed shops
and buildings
and people going both ways
busy up here isn't it
she said
yes can be
my old man brings here
quite a lot
I said
is the Queen at home?
she said
don't know
but if the flag is there
she is I think
I said
what flag?
she said
the Royal Standard
I think it's called
I said
she nodded her head
and her lanky
brown hair shook
and we walked on
until we came around
to Buckingham Palace
isn't it big
she said
fancy living here
we stood outside the railings
looking in
amongst many
other people gazing in
is she home?
Lydia said
I looked up to see
if there was a flag
no flag so
she can't be home
I said
shame might have seen her
Lydia said
peering through
the gap of the railings
I saw her once
I said
you never did
did you?
yes just a quick glimpse
of her and the Duke
going by
in a posh car
along the New Kent Road
a year or so ago
I said
did she wave?
Lydia said
staring at me
to if I was going to laugh
as if it was a joke
yes I think she did
but it was so quick
I waved a flag at her
I said
gosh
Lydia said
bet that was good
it was all right
long wait though
until she came and went
Lydia was quiet
for a short time
(miracles happen)
and we watched
the changing of the guards
and watched the building
in case someone
came out on a balcony
and waved at us
but no one did
after a while
we walked off
and got an ice cream
in the park nearby
and sat (watching
the ducks floating by)
on wooden benches
and sat together
licking our ices
staring out
at the water
which was what
an adventure
was all about.
Feb 8, 2016
Feb 8, 2016 at 4:05 AM UTC