Wednesday, October 31, 2007
Crisp sunlight this morning, trees half full of yellow leaves shivering over the black twists of branches. A silver chimney-top spinning and glinting. I walked and bought stuff for monoprinting, doffed my hat to a passing coffin trolley, and then I swopped my never used spanish guitar for something loud. Now the weather's grey and rubbish outside and I'm finger crossing it won't rain on our parade.
It needs a little bit of attention but sounds like this already:
Tonight I'm playing banjo in the street for the Kingsland Rd March of the Dead. Come and march! Another day closer etc...
Sunday, October 28, 2007
The inspector hears a suspicious sound.
He turns to religion.
But finds only ghosts and apparitions.
With one or two turns in the mirror
he cleans up his act.
Only to find himself in the seedier spots.
A shot rings out.
And then another.
Who will weep?