My Diary

June left the circular room very early while I stayed in the triangular one waiting for the face on the ceiling to be granted a voice. I heard the clatter of plates as a ocean liner glided down the road; it turned left at the Southern Railway signal at the bottom. I stood admiring the shade of green and then put my childhood memory in a vacuum flask and went to find a dragon to check the colour of its scales. Some time later I escaped from the inside of a cordless phone and devoted myself to compiling a dictionary of good byes. The ghost of the first milkman went by.

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My Diary

I had to find a hat to cover my rabbit ears and then went out to discover a plateau in the middle of the jungle. I discussed the intricacies of quantum mechanics with a group of learned dinosaurs I met there. I came home alone, although I had gained an extra pair of shadows which emanated from my walking feet at different angles. Like a magician who had climbed to the top of a broom handle (machine gun firing biplanes swarmed around) I collapsed one reality and opened up another. I talked to a blood worm philosopher as he followed a dried up river bed.

My Diary

June trotted to work like a dog following an Eighteenth Century mail coach while I curled up in a cat bed and built a model Eiffel Tower from recently sloughed snake skin. I had to find some pebbles for David and followed the broken road to the miniaturised city built on the top of a fountain pen nib. I noticed in the background that Goliath had been changed into a board game just in time for the Christmas trade. I pulled a preprogrammed penny whistle out of my pocket and it played a tune – I made a note that I had to take the pterodactyl to the vets and flew off.

My Diary

June and I laid in the flower strewn La Brea tar pits before I gathered up a bouquet and went out into the garden. I noticed a lot of earth thrown all over the path and then came indoors to creep inside a 35mm photograph – I rearranged my hair into a distant hillside and imagined walking up it holding the hand of someone half invisible in the sunlight. June went to town followed by a mechanised marching band and I stepped into the Twelfth Century to admire the view. Sometime later as the robot band master I went to town myself; finding June among the rubble.

My Diary

June had to go to her place of work unexpectedly and I got ready for a trip into the black woods on my own. I found a seat in a rapidly moving sweet packet and sat down among the discarded machine gun wrappings. When we got to the wood the shooters waved as they rode by. I managed to find a tree to climb down while the others went up by the lift – in the distance gun shots could be heard. We lined up the fallen trees and when the last ones had been carefully seen to we came back by the crematorium, looking at the height of the trees as we swept by.

My Diary

I left the ventricle of the giant gorilla heart very early and caught a test tube on wheels by the steam engine cemetery (looking through the gate I could see the soot covered flowers strewn about like motor cars after the apocalypse). I met the old man half way up a palm tree which he had earlier turned into a block flats. We talked of a farmer called maize and another called field of beans. I came back astride a tube of blood and spilt myself out in town. The lady behind the counter pulled a plastic spider out of her hair and I poured tea into my pocket instead of a cup.

My Diary

I crawled out of the system of tunnels that the machine gun people used to practice in and then laid on the bed of nails I use to clean my teeth. The man living in the bathroom cabinet had dental floss round his neck and threatened to jump – I threatened to catch him in a pinny I borrowed from the fox headed lady. June gargled on water taken from the bottom of a glacier and then tied a collection of smiles onto a kite and flew it from her mountain of petrol cans. An oil tanker full of sea birds drifted by while Ben and I walked home talking about the colour of bricks.