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September 05, 2005
In the cafe
People have asked me what it said in the notebook on the cafe table.
Well it was a bit of a stream of consciousness. Normally I would fiddle with the stuff I scratch into notebooks, but, hell, these diaries are a sort of naked event so here it is in its raw state:
And by all accounts we
are but a couple of strands
of DNA different from grass.
And we are covered no longer
with hair, but with weeds we
hide behind trying to be part
of a smaller troop.
AND IN ALL THIS WHAT
TRUTH IS THERE?
I’m 120 espressos from
the other side. This fragile
path we tread, as indestructible
as Dreadnoughts and Iron Clads,
where only a small fracture,
in the right place, can do for us,
or the Iron Clads.
So, on a deserted hillside in
the city centre, we must all
confront our fears and engage
our demons biting their
tongues in our teeth and not let go.
and on the next page:
So, now naked, we can only confront
the horror of the world –
naked in front of the iron clad tanks.
Coffee is a good toner
Posted by john at September 5, 2005 12:01 AM