Sunday 24th April



Vacant, near-naming neo-city. Organic artisan dreams of fast cars
deprived of sleep. Vehicles too skinny to be real achieve impossible
speeds in my bed where everything’s grey, drenched in rain, sweat &
A quiet woman in combat fatigues cruises the breakfast buffet,
balancing a tiny plate, bird eyes flicker. Porridge, tea & poetry
await the arrive of customised honey, expectant,  watching which way
my mood will go today. There’s a Penguin living in the freezer,
a Panda lying on the sofa, sheltering from a sandstorm. I’m running
on empty, fuelled by the smiles of waiters & waitresses, tiny acts of
kindness. They remain, un-noticed, unless you happen to be looking or
this long away from home.

listening to Deerhoof ‘Debut


6 thoughts on “Sunday 24th April

  1. Test drove a Tesla 2 weeks ago. Dear God! It is ludicrously fun. I am still speechless.

    Listening to something old but organic…

    You are only coming through in waves
    Your lips move but I can’t hear what you’re saying

  2. Groningen, march 28, 2016 this 50+ tiny womanperson went to see Underworld in concert. She had spontaneously swapped the ticket for a session of thai healing with a client so after work, and sharing dinner with her family she rushed off planning to sit somewhere in the back rows of Oosterpoort, for imaginary safety reasons. Upon entering the room, her neighbor caught her eye and before she realized, they stood talking and laughing, 2nd row front when very loud music started.
    Quickly she grabbed for the earplugs. There was no way back to safer grounds now… Pressing her hand against her huge red Indonesian batik dress/kaftan to keep it from bellowing up on every clean deep underworldly beat, she was very much aware of all her un-coolness. There had been no time for dressing up for a concert tonight. If she were to be un-cool, it might as well be awesomely un-cool, and she started to swing and sway and dance, losing herself, -thank you for that evening, thank you.
    I would like to share, that while you three were taking me back to memory lane, all these younger ones around me (without earplugs) made sure I wasn’t enthusiastically trampled on. They pushed all the large people to the back so I could see everything very well. They kept making sure I was allright. Total strangers. Just like that, voluntarily.
    You three had no idea up there. Maybe Groningen was just another one of hundreds of small town no-name gigs you HAD to do, even though you may have been tired and wanted to be home. May you feel warmed by this, and who knows it may bring a smile to your faces, the next time life on stage/road is hard to manage… It had been ages since I had been a night out like this, and your younger fans are sweet darlings..! Who would have thought.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.