Saturday, 4th May 2013

A flower in boots traveling across the antartic
First letter planted in trunks, a symbol moving, a cold insect
Needing water, a message on paper to devise a strategy, a bear in costume swimming with drums crashing, sneezing, a cult, an inn
Breadmaking, waiting (no 'I'), a length of time lacking order, a pauper (no 'you'), not one but two plot, a saint, a rodent, a sharp drop

Lines on a board reading out what I had said before, straight and narrow, tired of itself. Woods and the wind hurting with eyes talking from 4 directions. We're not taking drugs anymore from one point to another, thin and bone filling rubber

2 pairs (one brown, one black) lie unmoved on the nylon floor of the 1st one above the below, fruit grows upon us all but we are all dark and lie like cattle, a plastic grounding that we lick for the moisture that we need. But who wins? Look up and you see it all, depression hits you and appears as itself on the branches. Arguments fall and land on our heads. The end. Urinate and sympathise, we all miss a piece of the wall. Black untruths.

Word plays. I was a letter scripted for actors more than once. Body part history written on paper with a pen, created conversation, numbers for pretending they are something else again and again.