Tales from a road #1

I’m reading Bukowski and it’s like a rich Christmas cake at my grandmothers table. 

I’m reading Covid tales of Stockholm syndrome typed by chickens pecking at a keyboard. 

Somewhere out in the grey morning lights go on, cocks crow, and other lights go off. 

Jessica dies, I’m sad that she couldn’t hold.

In Bristol zoo a gorilla cradles her newborn child and so life goes on. 

And on.

Curious Under Some Stars (A Dark Arts Post - July 2020)

A little streak of illumination eludes me. Comet Neowise is hiding behind high noctilucent clouds. I’m out for a second date with my shy companion. Neowise is an infrequent visitor to the mountain, last seen here around the time of the earliest use of papyrus to make record. Tweaked by a trick of mass distorting space, it will soon go unseen for the best part of seven thousand years. Unless of course humans spread out to meet it halfway. Anyway we had a chat last night, posed for pictures and then went separate ways. Tonight we glimpsed each other between a twitch of net and curtain and I waited at the bus stop for a speculative hour.