Wednesday, August 12, 2009
Edinbleurgh
Edinburgh is currently full of needy, desperate twats like these hilarious people. No particular offense to them, they were just the first ones I found on google. Anyway, the whole city is swollen and bloated with talentless people making tits of themselves for £12/hour. Amazingly it is also full of people willing to pay for it. I'd been looking forward to the Fringe for some time and I struggle to remember the last time I was so disappointed.
LOOK AT OUR FUNNY HATS. LOOK.
LOOK
Poem to ease the pain. More tomorrow.
The Bridge
If I should lose myself in sleep and find myself
out of body and floating above the ocean,
may tidal winds take my nightshirt like a man-o-war
and make my mooring-place the Brooklyn Bridge,
and because this is a dream, let the bridge
stay empty and so broad New York dissolves in mist,
let one ship drift in below like a lily pad
on a sea turned doldrum-calm and silent enough
that I could whisper and still be understood
by the young man calmly discarding his suit-coat
and leather shoes and mounting the guard-rail,
and as he falls I will scream it is a joy to have a body
and as the sun rises on the bridge’s pitch-black rivets
let it catch a lily pad that blooms and quickly withers.
Thanks for reading,
Dave.
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1 comment:
Dude, I've been here five years and it gets worse every time.
BUT COME TO UTTER! ON TUESDAY, 5.30 AT FINGERS PIANO BAR
(it's poetry and Tim Turnbull is reading so I promise it will be good.)
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