Wednesday 27th November

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YESTERDAY’S WOMAN:
 
Yesterday’s Woman blew a fat horn blasting low rasping note 
into the room.
“It’s from the 1940’s” she said, looking tousled with a sparkle 
& I wondered if she meant the note. People came from other 
countries, attracted to the sound, in search of company 
& conversation. I paced, I left the room, returned & listened 
from outside & within, watching the flow of colours weave. 
Words waited in the wings, lay in books stacked in bags. Hauled 
daily in & out of town as heavy weights, literally literature 
that’s left it’s scar in the gathering & gathered to combine 
this heavy weight of paper. I ride the morning train amongst 
the separated silent faces, pen poised, but no ones eager to 
toss me a lyric. At night the carriages fills with tired eyes, 
limp suited energy & solitary men hunching over ready meals.
I find the last car in the carpark, turn the key & slip into the 
surf of night radio waves. 
 
(K)

Tuesday 26th November

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MOBILE PHONE BOOTH:
 
Is it a train? It’s supposed to be a train, it slips backwards like a 
train, snake towards the city.Perfumed people climb aboard smelling 
sweeter than the commuters on the one previous. They choose seats apart, 
spaced out from one another, staring into tiny screens & (strangely) 
books. I send out a message, I am ready to receive. The floodgates open, 
phone vibrations, interventions queue up for connections. The nice lady 
with the smart coat chooses not to sit next to me when she sees the 
mobile in my hand & I don’t blame her. A fast & tiny, frantic, spiky 
drum groove kicks in at the end of the carriage, heads swivel, turn back 
& hunch further into shoulders. Eyes disappear into tiny worlds held in 
the palms of their hands. 
 
Listening to a new Burning Shed release this morning.   
 
(K)

Monday 25th November

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DON’T GIVE ME BURST TYRE BLUES:
 
Laugh, you gotta laugh OR you’ll fall clean off the face of the Earth!
Plotted up in a back office at the garage with a Ford Anglia calendar 
on the wall. Yesterday’s papers for poetry & no phone reception to 
interrupt our inspiration. The men in oily overalls are plugging holes 
in tyres in the workshop, mirrors underneath the oil tank, gives me the 
gift of time out, time enough to miss you, yeah, you know who I mean.
Did you ever think I’d do that? Did you think I was so wrapped up in my 
glory that I’d forgotten? Not today & not tomorrow, never. I love you 
now like I never loved you, from a room at the back of the world before 
I slipped back onto the radar. 
 
(K)

Sunday 24th November

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GRINNING:
 
Crows bitch by dawn light in a wind that bites, just right for cycling. 
A fine rain like like a handbag can of water spray, makes me feel alive. 
Legs pump up inclines, freewheel down the other side. Lungs, thrilled 
to be tested, pull on sweet air, perfumed with summer’s decay. Green 
turns to gold turns to brown, lies scattered on the ground, makes the 
sound of a choir as we ride along the stave, reading the score with 
our succulent tyres, rubber kiss the rhythm of the song of Autumn.
 
(K)

Friday 22nd November

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LONDON:
 
Don E visits, bringing him with him a gentle presence that belies 
the vibrant funk in his core. When his fingers dance & polyrhythmic 
light celebrates life, bouncing around the room. He re-connects us 
with the root, the first time, raised on a repeated groove, the 
loop of the wrist of a James Brown guitar & the impassioned 
power of Ritchie Havens singing, “Freedom!” at Woodstock, never 
faking one second, transcending consciousness, surfing on the 
joy of rhythm. 
 
(K)

Thursday 21st November

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ALL AGLOW AT 2:00AM:
 
Awake at 2:00am is a new sensation, it’s usually 4:00.
The night sky is a pearly bulb, moon luminous cloud 
wrapped around us, keeps all our random thoughts 
bouncing back to earth. With no owls hoot to announce 
the dawn, I get up, walk around, go back, lie down & 
pretend I remember sleep. Living every day in 
20 minute pieces so as to remain fresh in thinking 
leaves me feeling like I’m on a coffee drip, resetting 
the mind, tricking it to think like a child gets results 
in the studio but sets up a constant pulse of flinches 
& flicks, a trick I learned to not engage with anything 
until the prime time. It gives you a dumb expression, 
like you have no idea what’s going on, but in the room 
at the back there’s a light, watching, waiting for 
the sweet spot to engage. Wrapped in moonglow & chill, 
sparking flashbacks & toy cap cracks as subjects loom into 
view to be batted away until the last one leaves a space 
for sleep.  
 
(K)

Wednesday 20th November

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DARK & COLD: 
 
Even the owls have frozen hoots & the fat star that hung in last night’s
sky is hidden by cloud. Fetch jugs of water! Scrape the ice from 
windscreens & set motors running to warm cars for runs to early 
destinations. Autumn put on a fabulous show yesterday, responding to a 
sea of black & greys. Faces buried into cellphone screens, wires wormed 
into the ears, no one looking out the window at the song of light 
dancing in the trees & soon they’ll be naked. Eye’s avert as everyone 
reverts to an island, not looking out, but in, not experiencing the world,
but fortifying against it. What dance of light will be ignored today as 
we ride another early train into the city of dreams, living in tomorrow 
when today is offering such fabulous stories freely. 
 
(K)

Monday 18th November

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DOG:

Black, Grey, Charcoal, Black, Black, Brown (for colour), Slate, Black, Hunch shoulder
Black, Dark Blue (to be different), Dirty White & Checked, Black n Blue, Two tones of Grey
(head down, shuffling), Black-Black, Black-Blue, Blue-Blue, Blue-Black, Biscuit (scuffed),
Blue-Blue, Black-Black, Black-Black, Black-Black, Four tones of Blue (that don’t sing),
Black & Black & Black & Black & RED (a bag dangling, dancing , singing – no one
listening), Blue (that’s almost Black), Dusty Plumb, Black-Black, Blue & Black & Black &
Black & Denim Blue (like a memory of Summer), Pale Sandy Boots (supporting a stern
expression), Black with glitter bits (fingers frantically tap the screens of small
devices, skate across the surfaces of tiny ice rinks), Olive Green (combat) & Black, Dark
Brown, Blue & Black, Muted Purples (to be different), Black & Dirty White & Black zig-zags
(so as not to conform), Greasy Dark Blue, Waxy Dark Blue & Washed-out Blue & Grey, New
Turquoise (muted), Padded Pink (holding on to Summer), Red & White polka dot bag (to be
cheery), Dark Blue & Black & Black & Black & the Palest of Washed out Yellows, Two Tones
of Grey & Denim (like a memory of Summer), Waxy Dark Blue (quilted), Two types of
Camouflage (fashion), Black & Vibrant Blue (Lycra), Black Leather Bag (clutched close &
tight), Black Lycra (bouncing), Bright White Trainers (striding), Dark (almost
imperceptibly) Blue, Black (on a bicycle), Black (on a bicycle), Dark Waxy Blue with Black
(slouching slowly), Vibrant Fluorescent Yellow (sweeping), Dirty White (arms crossed tight
across the chest) Walking, Crisp Grey over Black, Black with a vibrant splash of Wooly
Pink, an over vest of fluorescent Yellow (pushing a bike).

(K)