In my end is my beginning

We were  both staring at what was hurting  our shared boundary.

What we had in common was a pasting of grammar and  some full stops from the  old church organ..

not much help to a pair of  old fools.

especially when it was just a mouth organ from a bizarre barre ballet shop in Covent Garden

We were speechless  like  a pair of  cowardly  sheep up a mountain  in  Wales

.Not a baaa baaa between us.

Up till then nothing  had come between us except rhymes or reams of  blotting paper

Well,there is a saying:neither rhyme nor reason  and we certainly had no reason….

I’m only teasing.

We were as irrational as the square root of two.i.e.rational in the wrong  sort of way.

Unexpected, like almost everything in this life, but full of seasoning.

Rationality was  initially based on proportion then subsequently on distortion

and later contortion into  the field of the imaginary

.Everything is imaginary … that’s oblivious to me, anyway.

And everything  is abstract too.

Except lions in the zoo and me and you.

Shall we call it a day now?

I  am happy with my sentence of a week in the wilderness.

Call that a sentence?

No arguing, as you may be persecuted and scolded at an auction sale.

And that is  only the end of it all.. we lost the beginning in the womb of time.

Well,may be you can remember In my end is my beginning