so what are we at? the mother of five –of two– of two of course or is it the father of seven? of six, excuse me.
they hardly allow fathers or sevens on tv, or of six for that matter, that must be a hell of an accident before they get a mention.
now, shall we leave these lines, said sponge, or shall we comment?
comment, said breadroll.
and what’s it going to be then, said sponge, long or short?
short, said breadroll, they’re all shite.
poetic, said sponge, poetry is a nourish. any time. -ment, i meant nourishment. we keep correcting ourselves but that doesn’t make a great story, or explains the title. not funny at any time.
the Book of Sponge and Others.
annabloom.
today or tomorrow or the day after tomorrow
- 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

4 June, 2007




