GLITCH:

What happened to yesterday? Where did it go?

(K)

PRE-SUN BLUES:

The rain is loud on the roof. Hedgerows, stacked up in cut-out blues,
recede into distant fog. Cloud so low & thick it feels like the sun
hasn’t risen. Rivulets of rain water, dingle-berries dangle from
washing lines, abandoned clothes pegs underscore the sky.
Autumn wears a subdued expression, all it’s vibrant colours muted
in blue light.

listening to Sun Ra and his Arkestra
‘To Those of Earth and Other Worlds Beyond’

(K)

OH THIS WAS YESTERDAY:

I thought I sent yesterday, cracked my bottle on it’s bow,
set it sailing off across electric seas.
Ships of glass & concrete stare in at the window, futurist
dynamism beneath skies of luminous flying saucers.

(K)

PROMISE:

Battered by the winds of another storm, still here.

(K)

THE PROMISE OF MORE:

Riding bikes between the back of fields. Fresh black-top snakes,
the hiss of tires rolling down their wet backs & the curve of crisp
gutter white lines. The blood pumps, the sting of steaming shower
water & the light of a bright Autumn sun. The gift of an extra hour
as we pick blackberries for porridge time. Plugged back into the
lap top at the kitchen table, re-drafting the book, Keith Richards
on Desert Island Discs.

(K)

FAKE:

The sky over Essex is Japanese paper, thick & grey & low.
But even in this dulled light the Autumn leaves put on
a show that would shame a Rave. Driving North between
avenues of Maples I remember the first time we caught
a train out of Grand Central up the coast to Boston
in the fall. The trees that year had the contrast
turned up full like 1970’s colour tv’s.
I’d never seen nature look so fake.

(K)

THE SILENCE OF THE BELLS:

Dear Bob, this may be your greatest masterwork to date – silence.
I have carried your music with me on the road for years, using it
to heal my ears after nights of being pounded by turbo driven
kick-drum. I particularly like your stripped down acoustic songs
& your early electric tracks, but this new evolution in your sound
is really special. The exquisite space left by the absence of your
bells is fabulous! Thank you, for whatever it is you’re doing it
gets a big thumbs up from me.

(K)

BREAK THROUGH:

So Bob, firstly thanks for laying off the bells last night.
I got the best sleep in days without a single tinkle.
However, when I woke you seemed to take this as a signal
to kick off again, which frankly wasn’t what we agreed
& though I turned 5 Live up loud they kept breaking through.
Ding-sodding-Dong the whole morning – I got neck ache now.
Perhaps you could take the rest of the week off?

(K)

LIKE I SAID:

Dear Bob, I really dig your bells, honest I do, but 4:00am?
C’mon man, there’s a limit to how much campanology a man
can take. Do you have somewhere else to practice? My mate’s
got a shed if you’re interested.

(K)

DING-DONG:

Dylan was ringing his bloody bells last night at 4:00am!
Crawled off into another room. He didn’t follow – weird eh?

(K)