Monkey Suicide - on hearing of the death of MJ

Nettles

Nettles - I love 'em.

Pxx

Ups and downs

I've been about the town seeing whats about and its not nice. Not all of it - mostly its nice - well, mostly - some of it I like and some of it makes me sing.

I shouldnt sing, I sing badly. I love to sing I love to sin - I sin and sign and sing badly. My lip reading is shit too - I don't do it, ever, and when I do, I do it badly - never.

Did you know me when I sang - no, you didnt. Well I didnt sing, well I could - I could sing - I've told you that - I could sing loudly, badly, when I'm singing. When you heard me sing you didnt hear me sing - don't tell me you did - don't, not even if you did.

I shout Shout and shout - its better to sing Sing and sing - badly and not at all. Impossibly never and ever always after I didnt do it and I'm so glad, mostly, that you didnt hear me SHOUTING!!

You know when its inside me - no you don't how could you, you havent seen or heard me - I just do and then I don't and then its all over the place screaming Ag A Fukin DOOO

Shouting Lager Lager Lager 0 thats the only song I ever loved - other than all of the others I loved but mostly I loved to scream BOLLOCKS and then to sing gentle songs to babies who did not know - like you do not know - what it is that is inside until it comes outside and then you might wish it didnt as much as I do do cos when I hear it coming - starting to sing then I know that more is going to come until it stops and all that pours out is bad song, bad times, bad songs.

Px

The Serious Clown

The death of the serious clown - torn down from its pole, unsightly, like bird shit on a window

It didn't bring me joy, mirth, merriment

The serious clown was not interesting nor diverting

Fat - slow - not good reasons to enjoy its place near us in life

Not good reasons to enjoy its place near to us now, now that its dead

It did not have a sense of cool, sardonic, ironic, a suicide cool

Just a flat, fat, miserable blandness - lard, out-of-date, sitting on a shelf in a dead fridge

Could have fed the birds in the park

Could have collected stamps

Could have molested children

Could have smelt of piss

Could have - oh what, just who, just why - serious clown, I won't miss it now.

Aircraft - happy flights

A sensible comment on air traffic control - in response to concerns at work about different approaches to the issue of congested skies.

best to buy in an expert - bah...

who cares: let 'em fly their planes wherever they fancy - they have windows and headlights don't they? If the pilots could be bothered to stay sober they could look out and not crash into each other.

Give them a sat-nav and let them sort out where the passengers fancy going. Just fill up the plane and take a vote on the most popular destination... the majority will be sure to know the best places to go. In any case, what does it matter where they go, really, in the grand scheme of things what does it matter where we actually are, physically, during the poxy amount of time we are a conscious collection of bits of infinity on this planet spinning though time, space, probability.

All this regulation and government fiddling about - just let the fuckers do what they want.

Mary Words

Words for you - my words today for you.
Joy, strength, laughter and love.
Words I know you by - just a small part of you, illustrated badly as my words do.
Words do not describe the dawn the sun and earth as well as just loving and being with you.

It is though good to write words for you where I know, for sure, you will not read them

Pxxx

Burnt

I burnt some bushes
words hooked up, snagged on thorns
they just burnt - thats what they do - no choice

Things happen that way in songs - some songs
the words come out - there is a scream-fire and they are gone
the cooling wind - it feeds the flames

Words tangled in the sticks - torn
fading on paper - signs of things we will not be instructed to do (we do what we like)
Voices calling and singing birds, in the burnt bushes