FILMS THAT LEFT THEIR MARK:

The hook,
The bait,
The Red Balloon,
How do you replace perfection?

(K)

TO YOUR LIPS:

A mechanical man sips from a slit in a paper cup, a bird alone at
a window table. Ignores the street outside, head bowed, back hunched
like a desk lamp, transfixed by something small in the palm of his
hand. Obsessed, can’t look away, jerks & ticks like a broken cog,
flits like a humming bird at nectar’s cup. Doesn’t see it coming –
it’s an inside job.

(K)

COLD SHOULDERED WARM EXPRESSION:

A beat crosses the horizon. An automatic memory, glides by, calling.
A perfumed encounter, close for comfort. A uniform of offerings.
A walking shrine to fancy, runs, hides, remembers. Cruising the edge
of the wind with no regret of the past nor wish to shut the door on it
– moving on.

(K)

BOUNCE, TURN AROUND, LOOK BACK, WHAT’S THAT SOUND?:

Blue & Black & swinging, dressed in Pink. Walks up the street,
head bowed, hands clasped in prayer. An Orange surprise blown in the
wind. Fins & wires stride on giant legs, face like a weather vane,
watches reflections, passing shop windows. The day laid ready for
business waits alone at a table, watching, unaware it’s being watched.

Pat Thomas – ‘Coming Home’

(K)

EVERY BETTER THAN:

Slow light shuffles into town at the end of Summer, dressed in red,
runs around, silent faces. Stares out windows, empty streets,
certified legend. A fish, an illusion revealed, a fast pause,
a late bloom, a beautiful hook. What could go wrong?

(K)

LAUGH, IT’S THAT SONG AGAIN:

Where’s the honey?
Where’s the meeting?
Where’s the time gone?

(K)

PIN-UP:

On the beach,
On the rails,
On the road,
On the couch,
On the page,
On the stairs,
On fire.

Animal street,
Pure embrace,
Beautiful volume,
Happy skin,
Hearts & Stars cascade from a leopard skin sky.

The tribe of inner peace fakes nothing.

(K)

LISTENING DOG:

Down at the chicken wire, stud through the nose, tongue hanging out.
In a tinfoil world the horoscope strider walks on water with a smokey
eye. Life change is back on the menu, dipped in chocolate with a
smile. A pin-up, dressed in white, feels no pain, candy-floss beneath
the surface detail. An Icon with a twist in silver nails & harlequin
heels rides a night bus sneaking through the city.

(K)

IN THIS SPARSE ACCUSATION:

You’ll laugh when you look back with too much time to think,
scratching the back of your head, looking dazed in a wobbly face,
red lips & politics. You are on my list handsome wanderer, standing
stealth in black against the clouds. A tree, a figure sheltering
under branches thick with leaves. We shall not be moved, prowling
in the wind, blowing a wild horn – Pump it up!

Listening to: OY – ‘Space Diaspora‘

(K)

WALKS WITH ANGELS:

I will call you, will you answer? I will answer all your questions,
even the annoying ones, ill-timed perhaps. Is it you or is it me,
or circumstance? I will remember I’m not perfect, then forget.

(K)