Tag Archives: sunday

Sunday

  • Advert: wispy sky seeking fleeting slight thoughts
  • waiting for the what to write knowing, and surely this is urprising, that it will arrive. This is the improbable contradiction in Beckett
  • thicketed, tossled, twigged mop heads clumped bowing in the tangled coastal bush. Dry small leaved green of these gums.

Sunday

  • “There were four Asian’s and no Australian’s bidding.” “How did you know they weren’t Australian?” So went a shitty family afternoon.
  • prowling stalking gathering clearing cleaning. Blunt vacuum sharp tongue. People are coming.
  • a rolling grey black fog. It’s over there watching ready to gulp swallow smear and smother if I don’t do the right thing.

Sunday

  • sometimes the marriage is a Pushme-Pullyou
  • there are only so many Rainbow Fairy adventures with Rachel, Kirsty, and the banally bad Jack Frost you can do, in all their mannered Englishness
  • today these five hours have a vacuous grey dull and indistinct flatness

Sunday

  • heavy coal clouds leaden with cold and wet. Not the high dark anger of summer thunder but low flat dense thick smothering the day.
  • fresh home baked Swedish cinnamon buns, heavy sweetness that makes sense if you’ve sat by the water in your hytte
  • a day made melancholy by its cascade of nots