look, said sponge, is that him?
who?
him.
no.
is it a politician, said block of wood.
neither.
no no, said breadroll, it is a lump of lard. just left there in the open beside the carpark just like that; a little lump.
they closed the curtains. constantly being reminded other people’s misery, said sponge.
the Book of Sponge and Others.
annabloom.
when soccer stars go semi-private
- kindness of strangers
- some lives are worse than others but the stories are all the same
- anything is good for something in the end
- we don’t like days and are at odds with nights
- inflate or deflate or put on another show
- egg and a query
- come to mention it a melody sounds like the other
- a legend is born
- somewhere would be something else now
- the trail of art

31 January, 2006




