Leering at Mister Pip.

(On a positive triphop experience.)

The gaunt curly boys and the girls
with overbites
and the stunted swarthy men
and
the
writhing women with rhythm and
yeast infections
and the blue black light
in my wide wide eyes.

The Others.

A teensy bit banishéd, strangers are making 'there's an excrescence in an orifice and it's Hilarious' noises in my bed. I rather like them. And they know the canny way into a coconut, that's for sure.

Sad Salad

Nobody's looking - go now go!
Camera phone snaps; allow me to summarise:

1 Natasha's breasts (clad).
2 Natasha with monocle.
3 Uncle on motorbike outside Edinburgh castle embarking on charity coastal tour.
4 Mr Griffiths' brief but fabulous moustache.
5 A boy in a bandana with a hot potato.
6 Another walking down the street with a bin bag of clothes balanced on head.
7 Rusty hook in public toilet.
8 Graffito of half a face.
9 Piece of driftwood with a face on a wall.
10 'The Popular Restaurant', Dundee.
11 Girl's face with blue banana bread in tin foil.
12 The view of the ceiling from my bathtub.
13 Sign: 'Hawkman Services Ltd.: Abseilers Working Overhead'.
14 Romanesco broccoli: fibonacci sequence.
15 Squashed frog on pavement - one leg extended.
16 Haul of reclaimed food.
17 One torn thumb, pus, blood, filth.



Things I have not photographed lately:
1 Night walking, when everything is black and white and orange, because everything is black and white and orange.
2 Teeth tasting like dirty keys, because this is a taste.
3 Slugfoot revulsion.
4 'Reading' Finnegans Wake, because I can only do it arched across an easy chair with a pencil clenched between my teeth.