13 April, 2006
once again the sun shone on the alternative, for the sake of it, that was very much like the corner before. sponge had a scarf wrapped around his neck, copycat, for no other reason than today being today and the day that was in it; he stood there, nervously rocking back and forth and starred at the window of the shop.
breadroll sang: around the corner we go and around and around till we’re round and you’re round and we all drop like flies at the corner and around and around we go … an old carvery rhyme or nursery song, written in the country’s barbaric tongue.
we’re here now, said block of wood, the corner shop.
is this the corner shop or a corner shop, said sponge.
i wouldn’t know, said block of wood. it is a corner shop.
what did he say, said sponge, which corner shop? did he give further advice? they say they are selling chairs.
no, said block of wood. i’d love a monster munch. or these ripply things.
so it may not be this shop at all at all?
no.
we should look at other corners. shop around.
we could.
let’s go so.
no.
fine.
that’s what i think. —— sound. a very poetic word. this language, i add three dots …
the Book of Sponge and Others.
annabloom.
let’s go let’s go (they did not move)
- 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