Sunday 25th January



Van Morrison, serenades another breakfast buffet,
black tea starved, heavy on the meat. We hum & nod along,
grazing tit-bits & fries, thin smiling, demarcating boundaries.
Late arriving couples with shower hair, floating, distant eyes,
radiant, calm, bubble-people. I’m drowning in the wind of
heavy soap, it’s time I walked the streets.
See the Ice Train,
the Grey Ghost slip – describe a line across the horizon.
Rhythms of the colours of exotic forms, fantasy vehicles,
efficient, electric, Kraftwerk, industry, Europe, Endless.


One thought on “Sunday 25th January

  1. Yes, the invitation to Walk, to activate the rhythms that lie dormant within, and fill the senses with fantastic fantasy is accepted. Thank you Karl for the reminder to Walk; to come out and see the visions that shine where the concrete meets the searching soul. Luv, B.

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