a crisp new 20 pence piece, rolls to my grasp, thrown by a disgruntled passenger, alighting the carriage on platform 22, disgusted by my dismembered look, yet sickened by their guilt,
sitting in a seedy railway cafe, a tacky red flashing neon sign hangs, drawing people in from a grey world, at this moment its only purpose, is to draw my mind from its track,
doodle was my dog smelly shaggy great mut didnt run round in circles he had no pattern to his motion if he were a drawing he would be a doodle my dads finely tended marigolds
what is a perfect day? does it start with a stretch and a kiss, maybe end with a red sky night, promising yet another, pleasing to the sight, filled with meetings of chance,
sleep well, sleep deep, sleep well, for now your time is yours, enjoy the early morning mist, soak in the long summer evening, taste all on the menu, suck every life experience dry,