Friday 24th July



Air like dust, a paste that collects at the back of the throat
in the belly of the Emerald City. Catch the first train out,
aircon wind, dry you like a biscuit, cooked in the sun through
glass. Today we jump back through the sky-hole, London to Poland,
sucking on recycled wind, the breathes & dead skin of thousands.
The nuclear glare of another duty free microwaving us from
the inside out. A writhing mass, a jungle, a perfumed car crash,
trudging obediently through the haunted house of another hard sell
airport assault course. I’m sat here on the back step listening
to corn ripen, breathing clean air, feeling real wind on my skin,
feeling good. There’s a carpark at the back of a Polish hotel,
a patch of grass next to a fountain, a fire escape or even that
most luxurious of hotel facilities ..a window that opens!
That’s where you’ll find me, expelling the dirt, the dust, the
dead skin from the back of my throat, missing Rick.


4 thoughts on “Friday 24th July

  1. No glamour here, just the harsh reality of travelling. Soon you’ll be in Dorset where the Sea air is clean and soft on the skin. I think Rick will be missing you just as much, I hope he can join you in Dorset. I look forward to dancing with you. 😉 Have a good weekend.

  2. Windows that don’t open…
    Like a coffin..
    Along with millions of dead skin cells..
    Millions of engrained infested fingerprints*

  3. You are lucky, your work is to make people smile and feeling happy …every time.
    Cousin Max is a musician who took a break between gigs and visited the island for two days ago. I asked him if he ever feel uneasiness before he enter the stage. He told me that it happens sometimes when it is too much waiting before dinner and the concert, but as soon as he starts to play he is in the right mood.
    You are lucky, your work is to make people smile and feeling happy and it is contagious even to you …every time.

    Much love 🙂

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