Had he never misplaced the mojo, he may, he reasoned one evening, have been able to keep a keener eye on his star. But, he sensed, it had fallen. He came to this late. Drew scant detail. Reason, as such, eluded. He dreamed a nearfuture pocket of his being patted. Mojo? He looked up in … Continue reading Dim Star, Mojito & Mojo Rising.
We are waiting for the driver to finish his smoke. He paces the concrete. The bus is half-full. There is quiet chat and nobody grumbles. This is how it is in a small seaside town. The bus service is limited. It is a luxury. We wait with our bags of shopping. We wait with … Continue reading Seagull Sips Cappuccino
St. Bartholomew's Day 2018. Dear _______, Hello! I hope that this finds you well. I enclose a mixtape & some accompanying words to read... Pinky & Perky. I was, one morning recently, walking from the new exit/entrance for East Croydon toward the WC (that is to say, Whitgift Centre, though, these days the abbreviation seems … Continue reading Dead Fox In Mid Seventies.
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