Birdsong of The Spoons.

Despite having spent an age arranging the blind so that she could sit on the rug with her back to the sofa and watch the morning lighten within their slatted lengths, she found herself under heavy cloud, brewing, quite unable to play. She laid the cold horn on the sofa, scooped up her shades from … Continue reading Birdsong of The Spoons.

re: ancient civilisations.

this autumn morning, the same, almost so, as several in childhood, spent trying not to watch the bowl of oats and milk cooling on the sill. "waiting," he told me, "is a patient game." watching vapours reach for the ceiling.   "the ancient greeks made shields from porridge. or was it the polynesians?"   he … Continue reading re: ancient civilisations.

Old Man Grinner

They’ve bottled the old man Grinner. Caresses ya throat as it passes, it do. Good as gold it is, too. Takes ya right back, that’s what a good drink do. Takes ya right back to the old days. Helps ya remember. Helps ya forget. Or somethink. They've made a commemorative cider of his home-brew scrumpy. … Continue reading Old Man Grinner