Britain when Boris Johnson was pm

A defiant Boris Johnson [ ah, the poor wee toddler]
will use this weekend’s Tory [ who is it this weekend?]
conference in Manchester to double [ maths again]
down on his “peoplev parliament” rhetoric, [Ancient Greek]
after a tumultuous week [you don’t say]
in which he was accused [go to Confession]
of dangerously [ could it ever be safely?]
inflaming political tensions. [ do you mean tendons?]

Downing Street insiders insist [ to whom]
they have not been blown off course [ it’s those winds of change]
by the furious condemnation of Johnson’s
repeated use
of the phrase “surrender bill” [Is this a Western?]
to describe the backbench Benn Act. [ a comedy of terrors]

Instead, they claim they will use the [so do I, THE poet]
party conference to drive [what licence!]
home their “Get Brexit [I prefer porridge]
Done” slogan, launch [ a lifeboat?]
a string of manifesto-friendly policies – [ manifestly?]
and attack Jeremy Corbyn
as too weak [ ahaaha]
to lead Britain.

Johnson’s unapologetic stance comes \\
[ plenty of climaxes today]
after [ it sure does]
Amber Rudd joined the chorus [ as a contralto]
of condemnation against his aggressive use [ah, men]
of language, saying she was [ like Gd]
“disappointed and stunned”, [ a fine state]
and warning it could incite
violence against opponents.[ is it not meant to?]

The prime minister still hopes to press ahead [ he can borrow my steam iron]
with somehow securing a Brexit
deal in the brief
window remaining be [ can a window be brief or wear briefs?]
before the 17 October European Council
– and push it through parliament, [ come on Sisyphus]
against the backdrop of political turmoil. [get North Sea Oil]

Despite the horror [ exaggerated?]
with which many Labour MPs
greeted Johnson’s bellicose performance [ ballet to harm]
in the Commons on Wednesday, No 10 still
believes there will be intense pressure [ torture]
on those MPs who represent leave constituencies [ bad grammar]
to support a deal.[ why can’t it support itself, like I do

“If we came back with a Deal, [We have one near Dover]
I think there would be real political pressure ;[ not in my blood]
to really push through: if you’re in a Brexit seat,[what a bum]
do you really want to go into an election [No]
having rejected Brexit?” { I shall eat Weetabix]
the government [Ahahahahahaha]
Source [what, of the Thames?]
Said. [President of Egypt who made peace with Israel and was shot]

Excuse me Madam, are you Muslim

A day in town

Just after leaving Cafe Nero we saw some police approaching.
Excuse me. madam,.Are you Muslim?
No.I always wear cotton in hot weather.Unless I am making cheese.
Sorry. he said.How do you worship?
I think you need a Rabbi to tell you that
So you are Jewish?
No.you are,kind sir.,
How do you know,he said in wonder.I have no kippah on
As you have a big hat on like Leonard Cohen ~I deduced you were another of those Cohens.They are all descebded from Aaron,you know. He was Moses’ brotherThere must be a few hundred of you.
I fear you have made a logical error,madam.
As long as I don’t make an error of the heart,I don’t bother about logic.I said jauntily
Surely we need both a heart and a head,he asked me questioningly.
Definitely,but why are you here? I demanded politically
That’s what God said to Elijah on the mountain, he murmured
And what did Elijah say,I enquired superstitiously
I heard you calling me.
Oh,Lord

You want to share British culture?

This is not me

How to look and be Bringlish

If you go to a friend’s for supper, never take a bottle of water or wine.Never turn water into wine and never get shrunk even if he is a psychoanalyst

Wash your clothes but don’t iron them
Go out in only a T shirt and jeans at night in winter.
Go to A and E as much as you can except when you have acute coronary syndrome or sepsis
Old grey /beige anoraks look good on most “English” people
Never wear a red hat.They might think you are Father Christmas
Wear skirts that show your thighs off or leggings that show everything off.Saves men buying soft porn.But do not charge.
Do wear crop tops and low rise jeans especially in winter.
Jeans with rips are perfect for old ladies.Rip them yourself.
[Teach Yourself How to Rend your Garments £4.99 my e book’]
Wear thick padded down coats in the summer.
Never wear a summer dress unless you are a man
Never wear petticoats and other lingerie unless you are a man
Wear a T shirt saying: Anti-Semitic, moi? while touring Oxford looking for pubs
Wear a T shirt saying: Belgians, go back to Congo..
Wear a T shirt saying: Take that French Leave now
Wear a T shirt saying: No sprechen Sie Deutsch/Believe me.Nein.Ten,When?
Wear a T shirt saying: I feel Rubbish/I feel your pane/I just feel you.
Wear a T shirt that says :I Luv money/I have an oyster card/I have no bike to get on.
Wear a T shirt saying: I want leave to commit crime/I want Remain to leave./I want leave to Remain.
Wear a T shirt that says: Educated in Burton, can’t spell
Wear a T shirt saying: Och aye, President Rump!
Make sure your hair is exposed— both head and pubic.
I don’t understand either but they keep saying, where are you from?
I say, here. But somehow they don’t believe me.Yet.
I am getting my T shirt tomorrow.It says: I’m a Viking and I don’t care.What’s your problem?

I never sent

Wrapped up in my thoughts I did not see
The sunlight on the leaves,the russet tree.
I did not see the berries and the birds
Are they quiet, or is it I’ve not heard?
Far away yet not in reverie
No guide nor light appeared nor called to me
I smelled the damp green leaves I could not see
Entangled in the knots of wild old words
I lost my mind in wondering what you meant
In all those little notes you never lsent
The angst,the fear the ego off its throne
The knife that cuts, the breaking of the bones

When he couldn’t eat

I don’t want to walk to the front room
Can I have my dinner on a tray?
I wept inside for he could hardly eat
So thin I thought his backbone might well break
I’ll get you a small table, honeybun
Just a mo, I’ll put the oven on
I want a steak ,he called another day
If he could eat it I would be God’s prey
I can’t chew it, pet, my stomach’s full
The fluid from the blood, I knew it well
The valve is furred, his blood is being pushed back
Fills his inner organs swells and racks
I was almost paralysed and stunned
Putting him to bed was quite a pun
Then he woke up from a little sleep
Spoke to me in words so clear and sweet
You have a personality so bright,
The sun must envy you your brilliant light
After that he scarcely used his words
We did not need to speak, it was absurd

When he was in the last few weeks of his life he became very critical of himself and of me. But that day he woke up from a sleep and criedYou have a brilliant personality then he went to sleep again. We didn’t talk very much because we didn’t seem to need it as long as we were present with each other in our bodies and hearts.

The heather is divine

← 

.

I’ll draw a graph of Mother Earth
I’ll need a lot of paper.
It won’t be easy,I know that,
But Geo’s my alma mater.

Geo came into our maths class.
We had to find her metre.
If we did then we could write
poem with which to greet her.

With ologies and eulogies,
The earth is deep in waste.
Give me some green graph charts
I’ll do some cut and paste.

I’ll rearrange the entire globe,
Without a deal of fuss.
If anybody notices
They won’t know it was us!

I’ll put all the mountains in the world
Inside one continent.
And if I am that way inclined
The globe will look quite bent.

I’ll put the lions and tigers too
Into Parliament.
Let them eat, not cake, but men
And don’t charge them a rent.

I’ll paste  the seas that I shall find
Onto my washing line.
With less water round the world
The weather should be fine.

Oh Geo was a darling child,
So promising and bright.
Mixed up by the graphs and charts
I hope she’ll see the light.

I’ll put the stars into a box
We have far too many.
Yet only one sun and one moon,
Would you  be my granny?

Geo return,I love you so.
I’ll give up cut and paste to show.
That you are all I ‘ll ever know,
I don’t want no more

In love again

I saw  the sun rise over the North Sea
Accentuating coloured fishing boats.
The beauty of the dawn gave hope to me
A restful pleasure made my  soft eyes  dote.

The peace of this small town has caught my heart.
Scenes from ancient times  come close again
The gulls swoop down and  sketch their flying charts
Remote as ever from the realm of man

The shingle beach,the  Church  where Britten lies
The in and out of tides  of salty sea;
An exact match of houses,hill and skies
The   amber shop, the bookshop,the oak tree,

In my mind I walk in love again;
Though of the two, a single one remains

I heard the news today,oh boy

They have not been blown off course [ it’s those winds of change]
by the furious condemnation of Johnson’s
repeated use [what licence!]
home their “Get Brexit [I prefer porridge]
Done” slogan, launch [ a lifeboat?]
a string of manifesto-friendly policies – [ manifestly?]
and attack Jeremy Corbyn
as too weak to breathe
and take Britain.[Where to?]

Guardian Today: the headlines, the analysis, the debate – sent direct to you

Johnson’s unapologetic stance comes [ plenty of climaxes today]
after [ it sure does]
Amber Rudd joined the chorus [ as a contralto]
of condemnation against his aggressive use [ah, men]
of language, saying she was [ like Gd]
“disappointed and stunned”, [ a fine state]
and warning it could incite
violence against opponents.[ is it not meant to?]

When the fire goes out


Fire out,I sit in coat and fake fur collar

My hands cold,

Just caught hake off Flamborough. Head

Know how I feel

A cold winter already came for me.

I am prepared.

I find some hats I knitted.

Fish have no skin

Their eyes look out poignant yet fierce

They think they are sharks

It’s so wrong to display them

Dead in rows.

I knew then in the fish market

What kind of world it is.

Animals have their own holocaust

Well,think about it.

Crabs and mussels boiled alive.

God never wanted human sacrifice

It was some evil demon Hitler worshipped

Himself I think

How do you do it?

Did Freud get it right.. the death instinct.

Or to be blunt

Would n’t a hot soak in the bath be better?

Cold again.

Is the world worse now?

Fish dancing with their lucid frills

Ul

I flandered lonely as snow blouse
That sleats on high o’er biles and thrills,
When all at seance I saw a cowl
The ghost, of hilden waffotills;
Detide the blke, Coneath the fleas,
Pluttering and muttering in the frieze

Conpenfed as the phores flat pint
And swondleon the mockiray,
They briched in never-blinding stone
Along the gargins wove a ray:
Ten thousand jaw I after flounce,
Wessing their shads in golightly spance.

The daves deside them planced; but loy
Out-said the parkling raves in schlee
A paite could not clutter glay
In juce a fecund timpanee:
I glazed- and glazed- but little ploat
What nealthy wasps shrew plea had clight:

For poft, when on my louch I wight
In racant or in extensive flood,
They flash upon drat innard plie
Stitch up the blass of molotude;
And then my girt with leisured gills,
Fish dancing with the daffofrills.

Old people in a nursing home

None so blind as those who will not see

The suffering of the old is hidden from view

How cruel the world indifferent yet to me

My face is frozen killing any clue.

The colours of the heart are mainly blue.

Sister, sister do you not agree.?

The suffering and the dying not on cue

From the desert of the aged flee.

I wonder whether God asks who are you?

God has got dementia yet is free

The suffering of the old enrages few

A play on words amusing I shall sue

Comments

Have mercy

Copyright Katherine

Her smile outdid my wish to be cut off

Her smile out-did my wish to be cut off
To hide inside a cupboard or a box
While I drowned in pathos and old wrath

I had been by mental storms well tossed
Measured by the devilish ticking clocks
Her smile out-did my wish to be cut off

I had not realised the fatal cost
Of self-help by a drastic nasty shock
As I drowned in pathos and old wrath

Her smile I let come in, though I was lost
Wandering in the graveyards of loves locked
Her smile outdid my wish to be cut off

What is it with our nonsense and old stuff
That lets each cell of skin decide to shut
As we float in pathos and old wrath?

I took my heart and on it I did pluck
The strings that sang a tune to mercy’s luck
Her smile outdid my wish to hide away
So I swam from pathos to love’s sway

Life is a suburb

The life of a suburb

Jack had just taken early retirement from his old job as a maths researcher. in Knittingham university.His large collection of books was overwhelming the home he shared with his excitable yet calm French wife Simone.
Simone was still working at the university cleaning computers heads all day long.Now she was hoping that she and Jack could do more entertaining.If only he would get rid of some of the many books he owned!
Simone left for work wearing her new pink cord trousers and a dark blue denim knit jumper with a long lasting beige foundation from Max Factor covering her deep red complexion.
Jack gave the cat,Louisa, a hot bath in goat’s milk.Now instead of being grey she was cream coloured.
I’ve been dyed,she shrieked politely but Jack never replied.
He pondered,as he dried her what to do with all his maths books.He had thought of making a large collage but who would want it?
Or he could donate them to the university or have a fire in the back garden.
Suddenly he looked up and saw a very charmingly pink faced woman peering into the window.
It was his neighbour Kim whose husband had disappeared last year,possibly inside a wheelie bin,though no-one was sure.
Hello,Kim,did you want me?” he cried nervously
I thought you might like some company for morning coffee.What a pretty cat.what is her name?”
Louisa was wary of Kim,Maybe the purple trousers and orange jumper might give the cat an epileptic fit… she was a sufferer, just like St Paul.She hoped to be converted but so far was disappointed.She longed to see a vision of heavenly cat food in the sky.
Can cats go to Mass? she mioawed to Jack.
Yes,but they can’t have Communion,he responded furtively
Well,we don’t eat bread but I love wine!
I’ll mention it to the Pope next time I see him,Kim said with a roguish smile.Her make up looked to be waterproof as the drip in the ceiling was right above her head and heavy rain was falling yet her face did not change at all.Was it plastic coated?
But Louisa,you would have to confess your sins.All your sins
I never did a thing wrong in my whole life ,the cat replied haughtily.
Well,you know the Church is only for repentant sinners,so if you never sin,you can’t repent. so it follows indubitably that you can’t join the Church!i studied Aristotle once so
I get all logical with emotion.I only wish I’d got to Wittgenstein..I could have loved that man….though now I seem to recall he was gay…still,who knows?
If that were true about the Church,would Jesus be allowed to join?
Certainly not.He was perfect and also he was Jewish.So why would he want to join a Christian church?
As he began it, he might like to see its holy life,Louisa purred loudly.
Really,I think this is a very odd conversation murmured the parrot,Felix Semper.
Not so odd,responded a tall dark man who just appeared from nowhere.
I am called Jesus he said,but I’m from Malaga.
In Spain many men are called Jesus,he continued mellifluously.
Is that so, cried Kim murmured tenderly.
I never met a Jesus before.If you married me it would give people a shock if I said I was married to Jesus! she whispered loudly behind her hand.
Marry you! Is it leap year? Women have never proposed to me before.
I was just thinking out loud,she replied demurely in her soft voice.
Nuns used to be married to Jesus and wore a silver wedding ring.
I was educated at a convent school.That’s why I’m so very neurotic.
Are you really neurotic? Jack,screamed anxiously
I have a whole shelf of books by Karen Horney here.Self Analysis, is just one.
I could give it to you now….
Not in front of Jesus,she muttered chastely.
Have you no moral feelings?
No,I’ve never had any feelings of any sort in my entire. life but it’s done me no harm.Though how would I know?
I’ll ask Simone when she gets back, we’ll see if she agrees!
I’m just like a computer with a human body.
I sometimes think I’d like a suit of silver armour.
Bless you,my child,Jesus murmured.
When they looked up the tall dark man was gone.
They looked around but he had left no footprints.
Should we call the police?He came in with no permission!
How disgraceful.
How dastardly.
How disgusting
How damnable.
How divine.
How dumb.
How deplorable.
So on they murmured until it was time to cook lunch. for the cats and birds.What a morning,what a life.
Bless us,oh Lord!

Her smile

Her smile out-did my wish to be cut off
To hide inside a cupboard or a box
While I drowned in pathos and old wrath

I had been by mental storms well tossed
Measured by the devilish ticking clocks
Her smile out-did my wish to be cut off

I had not realised the fatal cost
Of self-help by a drastic nasty shock
As I drowned in pathos and old wrath

Her smile I let come in, though I was lost
Wandering in the graveyards of loves locked
Her smile outdid my wish to be cut off

What is it with our nonsense and old stuff
That lets each cell of skin decide to shut
As we float in pathos and old wrath?

I took my heart and on it I did pluck
The strings that sang a tune to mercy’s luck
Her smile outdid my wish to hide away
So I swam from pathos to love’s sway

Emiles chant

Oh,mother dear wherever have you been
To leave a cat all day is very mean
Emile,I need my freedom now and then
I can’t love Dave but I would like a man
I must go out to buy a handsome coat
Cognac is the colour I love most
Emile cried, whatever do you think
I saw some frogs a-courting in the sink
I was on the draining rack up there
They asked me to avert my amber stare

Are frogs faithful, don’t they just leave spawn?
They are cold towards tadpoles unborn
We saw them by Moss Bank in shallow pools
Mary wonders if all frogs are cruel

Stan came with his angels right behind
They are tired of heaven, they’ve resigned
Here’s a pin upon which they can dance
Mary was delighted and entranced

Do you need a dinner now you’ve died?
I wouldn’t mind a steak, the old man sighed
Some buttered new potatoes and a fool
Rhubarb or vanilla would be cool

I have done no shopping, Mary cried
I have no money for the food you like
Shall I get a pizza, fish and chips
That will put some colour in your lips

I am only joking, Stanley said
I shall merely visit you in bed
Emile wept with joy to see his Dad
What a spirit, is he going mad?

In came Annie in her long best coat
Her eyes were black and scratched was her throat
I fell into the Croal when eating chips
See the bruises on my pouting lips

Never walk on water,Mary screeched
Even when you cross that Southport Beach
Stay away from danger,I’ll ring Dave
He will dress your bruises with his gauze

Annie did not tell them the real truth
She had fallen off the sloping roof

Going to Mass

Daddy went to Mass at 12 oclock
I followed him and crossed the busy road
I was wearing my best Sunday frock
I was only three,I knew no code.~

I went down Melbourne Road and saw the church
I saw the trees. a robin and a wren
Mothers went to early Mass in thirst
Taking holy wafers now and then

Daddy disappeared and so I cried
The verger knew my family by sight
He lifted me above the gentlemen
I saw Daddy smile at me again

He carried me on his own shoulders home
Mammy said,I wondered where you’d gone

When they were soaked in jam

Dr Adams was a very kind man

He never fried sprats when they were soaked in jam

He apologised to the loaf when he cut the bread

And he wept many tears when his ants were found half dead..

He was enamoured of spiders because he liked their webs

And even let them build one between his middle ribs.

He loved his wife and allowed her to be free

So she met a jolly sailor and they went out to sea.

Suddenly he realised, altruism’s bad

Unless it’s given to those who really are quite sad.

So he made a resolution to be a bit more stern

And gave up putting dinner out for the earthworms.

He met a kind fair lady and he began to hope

She would marry him and raise some antelopes.

He said she must be free but not quite totally;

Loving other men was not permitted,you see?

Some folk can live with a marriage and affairs

Some men even keep many concubines and bears.

But he and his new lady decided to be chaste

As loving any other folk was a sorry waste..

They had many off spring of whom I am one

I look like the pussy cat when all is said and done..

And I like being groomed and sitting on folks’ knees

Think whate’er you like but it’s fun running up trees.

My father was black and my mother is white

So I am rather grey ,except in a good light.

I have many patches in different shades of grey

I only wish my whiskers didn’t look like hay.

I am hoping to marry when the corn and barley’s ripe

Oh,what fun we’ll have in the middle of the night.

The wordless feelings of the soul

The wordless feelings of the soul catch light
Like fire,like diamonds, like the dust of stars
With their fire they penetrate the night

To expression, they the mind incite
To where the words may open and be clear
The wordless feelings of the soul catch light

Expression by its methods brings delight
We see the molten universe desire
With great fires , with wonder, what work’s wrought?

Like a flock of geese in happy flight
The heart of unknown worlds is not a liar
The sense of feeling souls will bring us light

Of the thunder and the lion we note
The natural world with its own might conspires
With its being it permeates the night

So our hearts and souls does love devour
Never cornered never shall love cower
The wordless feelings of the soul catch light
With such brilliance, can we feel the night?

Fire

The wordless feelings of the soul catch light
Like fire,like diamonds, like the dust of stars
With their fire they penetrate the night

To expression, they the mind incite
To where the words may open and be clear
The wordless feelings of the soul catch light

Expression by its methods brings delight
We see the molten universe desire
With great fires , with wonder, what work’s wrought?

Like a flock of geese in happy flight
The heart of unknown worlds is not a liar
The sense of feeling souls will bring us light

Of the thunder and the lion we note
The natural world with its own might conspires
With its being it permeates the night

So our hearts and souls does love devour
Never cornered never shall love cower
The wordless feelings of the soul catch light
With such brilliance, can we feel the night?

If this be love

If this be love,then let me have your hate.

If you be true then let me hear your lies.

For this, my heart, your message comes too late.

For now my need is for the thoughtful wise.

If this be marriage,let me have divorce.

If this be holy, hasten I to hell..

For love comes in its time without such force.

And of its message who am I to tell?

If this be love,then let me dwell alone.

If this be love, I will be forever chaste.

Your love is like a blow that breaks my bones

A love that lays your world and mine to waste

.

Love can shake us to our inner core.

Hence of your love, I wish to hear no more

Oh dear what can tbhe matter be?

Oh dear what can the matter be
We sometimes dislike our own family
Oh,dear send for new batteries
My husband has gone flat with despair.

Oh,dear what can the matter be
Ambivalence strains all the flattery
Oh,dear, drive to the cattery
Alfred has lost all his hair.

He promised to lie on my lap until Saturday
He promised to eat his food and to chat to me
He promised to kiss me and love me and vacuum me
I’ll have a hot bath and prepare.

Oh,dear,what can the matter be
Love and hate mixed up in our territory
Oh, dears,love you all anyhow
Love is much stronger and fair

Alfred loved me well latterly
His owner gave him but a pat a day
I stroked him till he lay down flatterly
Love is the truth and the way

Flying

I know that’s how death will come,
Suddenly flying into another orbit when I am photographing flowers
It’s not a gentle transition.
No-one will know where I’ve gone.
One step wrong and I’m off the high wire
And plunging into the no safety net.
Flying for a while
Jumping into hyperspace,spinning electrons
Startle my wide eyes.
Transiting the new black sun
I’m on a double gold helix,
Spider on her web,
Knitting furiously
Into the future heaven on gossamer wings.
Butterfly goodbye,
I’m off to see the stars.
And the black holes.
No one will come with me.
I’m shaking off,evaporating into mist.
I’m a flying saucer on a circus mission.
I can’t say no to a new invitation.
Make it fast and break with tradition.
Time is passing smoothly till that break In the music,
I’ve been transmuted into a different key
someone else will play me on their violin
I’m a tune, I’m a thought, I’m a whisper in your vision.
Goodbye,darling.
I’m under orders Ready to leave for my performance
On the electric carpet.
Death dancing to a tune on a violoncello,
Arpeggionne sonata
I’m playing your words upside down
In a new foreign translation,
Accompanied by solo artists,ice cracking
I’m going in.
It’s too sudden.
I’m flying.
Spinning faster to amuse the clowns,
too many ups and no downs.
I’m going right out of orbit
I’ve broken the pull of gravity,
And fly with pure equanimity
Into my future life,
I’m off at some moment
An instant,a crack,a loud smack
That was me passing

Wikipedia:Sauce for the goose is (not) sauce for the gander – Wikipedia

https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wikipedia:Sauce_for_the_goose_is_(not)_sauce_for_the_gander

W

There’s an old saying, “What is sauce for the goose is sauce for the gander.” This meshes well with the Golden Rule, or ethic of reciprocity, which is a key moral principle in many religions and philosophies, and is often stated as “Do unto others as you wish to be done for you”, or conversely, “Don’t do unto others what you would not wish to be done to you.”

Tasty sauces to enjoy on your stir-fried wikipedia. But are they reliable sauces?

Look up sauce for the goose in Wiktionary, the free dictionary.

Unfortunately, when the infighting he

Memories of love


I miss your hand that used to hold my hand
I miss your eyes that used to smile at me
The needs of love don’t feel like a demand
I miss the hand that caressed my held hand


I miss your love and miss you as a friend.
When you gazed , your eyes lit what you’d see.
I miss the hand that used to warm my hand
I miss the eyes that used smile at me.

I miss your arms around me in the dark
I miss the morning, when we rarely spoke
On Purbeck Hills,we heard the singing lark
I miss your arms around me in the park


Poole Harbour’s beauty was a living spark
Sharing silent glances as we walked
I miss your arms around me in the dark
I miss the mornings, though we rarely spoke

Silent sharing ; company in love.
With strangers;oh,that manufactured talk.
To be silent;dome of sky above
To be silent ; spaciousness of love.


Strangers, how their talk can jolt and shove
I held your hand ; caressing as we walked
Silent caring; sympathy of love.
No stranger, blindly snatching in the dark

Young Men Who Chase After Ghosts from “A Small Blue Marble” by Syd Weedon

Young men who chase after ghosts amuse me,when I fight through haunted night to keep them at bay.I want to say, “Just give them time; they’ll arrive,”but I don’t want to spoil their fun. Tissue frays; sharp becomes fuzzy. Night falls.Look straight ahead, not side to side. Shades gather.Don’t make eye contact or answer, or […]

via Young Men Who Chase After Ghosts — A Small Blue Marble