Friday 8th April



Red Man, green man in the rain crossing to the other side.
Men on the roof reversing trucks into history, time wrapped around
their wrists. Men covered in dust, smoking cigarettes in doorways,
typhoons on their backs. Men whistling in the dark, attaching
bird-wires to windowsills. Strolling man, hands in pockets,
the weight of the world. Fast man, tiger tucked underneath an arm,
striding into town. A man leaves his mark in the street.
Meditation, undisturbed, phone left ringing.
Alarm calls. Handy-work


2 thoughts on “Friday 8th April

  1. Karl I just tried to leave a real long message but it failed. I love your work man, it’s a lifesaver honestly. I just really needed to ask, as lame as it is, for you to perform Peach Tree or Deep Arch at the BlueDot festival this year, it would validate my existence. Takr care and keep doing what you do best.

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