My Diary

I walked June to work in the pitch black (an anti-person held up a picture of the one pupil of Polyphemus), I noticed that every house we passed was numbered one – I came back on the other side of the road expecting every house to be numbered two. I then walked the dog to the observatory were she counts snowflakes, coming back with an orange and red bandana wrapped round my green bobble hat. I jumped into my underwater studio but didn’t stay very long after the fire went out.

Advertisements

My Diary

I had to walk to town carrying a torch even though it was daylight (I had got up earlier than usual to march in a band of red uniformed soldiers – we marched up the hill while the commuters came down with empty boxes in their briefcases). I didn’t stay long at the battleground and then took a bag of leaves to the hippopotamus sanctuary before snuggling down in the romper suit I call my studio. It is going to be cold for ever and June returned home accompanied by snowmen.

My Diary

I stuck Wednesday on the calendar while trying to find my clothes which had run off to sea. June was sitting in a can of baked beans when I went to see the Rabbit Man, he and I came indoors talking about manned space flight and the creation of a new language using only enzymes. I crawled into an acoustic guitar sound hole and checked to see it is was waterproof before diving into my glass of drink: 50% fruit. As the light faded I walked past the grocery store without looking in.

My Diary

It was another bitterly cold day and the polar bears next door drew snowman smiles on the window glass. I had to ride my watch to town to collect some memories which I had left in a box (cue pictures of boxes with millipede legs and shuffling gaits). I saw the old king while in town, he was holding court by the red skull carriers and June and I (now changed into grey doves) waited for a red box to disappear into the distance. She then went under the bridge and I went over it.

My Diary

I climbed out of a picture which I called “The Wild West Of England” to catch the cattle which were stampeding around the imaginary gallery floor. Putting my lasso and chaps in a cigarette packet I walked June to work and then went out and bought a lighter. The clouds had bullet holes as I walked to town to find a meadow to bring home for the animals; people as transparent as tissue paper followed me and later congregated around the hay rick as I came home with the needle.

My Diary

I went out in the cold morning, small birds perched on my moustache. I skipped a couple of pages and found myself sitting with the old man in a grey room watching a girl sitting in a glass case – she aged visibly as the schooner approached the quay. I stuffed a forest into my shopping bag and came home along the canyon trail which I have known about since a night locked in the school library. Once I got home I pressed a number of buttons and the furniture sank into the ground.

My Diary

I had a quiet day after the space ship hand landed and the bejewelled llamas had walked out. I had for some time kept my hair in a fish tank and walked the dog with a lobster on my head (after hearing voices and founding the red faces campaign). I introduced myself to the fish people and promised when becoming prime minister to build seaweed tower blocks like school ties around the necks of our cities. I blew my harmonica and waited for a family of ducks to cross the road.