Wednesday 25th March



I hear a woman’s chocolate giggle, in the room across the
corridor, muffled by the fire door as I leave to comb the
streets for poetry in the rain, dance between the cracks
again. They’ve been up all night & at it, cocktailed to
infinity, traveling back through time in the dark recesses
of the hotel bar, girls in tight torn jeans, exotic, magnetic,
to the boys in heavy jackets with close cropped hair.
I remember this hotel, 1991, too drunk to stagger, legs up on
gothic stone balcony balustrades, feet in the night sky,
an animal mind cut loose & hungry for more than could be found,
burning from the inside.


2 thoughts on “Wednesday 25th March

  1. I admire you in both states equally–burning from inside and combing the streets for poetry. Today’s diary entry itself is a product of the latter too. I was here in sunny-rainy London listening to Barking on a train to Barking. Wishing you a Paradisal night over there x

  2. On my travel this night,i heart a short lovelly conversation about… karl is interesting in a woman now,said the girl.I read it,said the boy..And what do you think who the woman is,ask the girl,with a bright smile in her face.NO-the boy with wide eye’s.YES,said the girl,laughing loud.
    Later i looked and coudn’t find to read what the boy said,but i realy thougt they talk about you;)

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