My Diary: Opening My Suitcase And Discovering It Full Of Sand

I got up early,‭ ‬before June the body but after June the voice.‭ ‬I checked the garden quickly for pottery shards after the frost giant’s party during the night and then walked up the chimney pot road as introspective smoke‭; ‬the lady with the fluffy cat hat looking baffled by the miniature mountaineer climbing up my back‭ ‬-‭ ‬apparently he was trying an ascent of my unconquered North Face.‭ ‬I remembered to wave to a fragment of a person in the last house but one‭ (‬unfortunately that was the only fragment not looking‭)‬.‭ ‬I then found a pair of marching boots at the top of the road and climbed inside‭; ‬disembarking outside a pair of clapping gloves.‭ ‬Cold feet talked to cold hands and then came home with a solar flare in a paper bag and a warrior ostrich in a haversack.


My Diary: Dancing In My Werewolf Clothes

I started the day paper thin,‭ ‬adding layers as the morning progressed and the weather worsened.‭ ‬June went out in the pouring rain with shoes on her head and her raincoat in her bag while I stayed at home writing with gale force ink.‭ ‬After a photograph dinner‭ (‬a bush baby eating a grasshopper‭) ‬I noticed that the big black cloud in the loft had started to rain through the ceiling‭; ‬I telephoned the landlord‭ ‬-‭ ‬who was being painted in deck chair stripes in a room studiously modelled on a kangaroo’s pouch‭ ‬-‭ ‬and then telephoned June before she changed into a marsupial cardigan with very long sleeves.‭ ‬When she got home we both entered the placental vampire den with spoons in our mouths‭ (‬hers were silver‭) ‬and then had another photographic meal‭ (‬a grasshopper eating a bush baby‭)‬.

My Diary: The Ghost Of A Machine

June and I started the day in black and white before going out for a meal in full colour.‭ ‬In a restaurant of intersecting lines June and I surrounded ourselves with attractively patterned clouds.‭ ‬She thought vertically while I day dreamed in horizontal layers‭ ‬-‭ ‬the night dream archaeologist would later find the footprints of an early hominid in the lowest layer,‭ ‬as well the plastic casing of a transistor radio.‭ ‬As the luminous dust began to settle in the aborted launch pad room I told the waiter that my meal could foresee the future although in reality it could only remember the past.‭ ‬He later showed me a hole in the wall where something had entered the building which has never been found‭; ‬I emptied my pockets when I got home.

My Diary: Fiction Found In Every Fact

June went out trailing a long piece of string‭; ‬I wasn’t sure if I had to tie the end to something in the house or just let it go.‭ ‬She went so that the very young could meet the very old‭ ‬-‭ ‬as I am in between I let myself float to the surface where I grabbed hold of several different ancient Greek myths at the same time‭ (‬both Ariadne and Andromeda held my hand‭)‬.‭ ‬I fastened the sound of birds in Spring to a stick close to where the narrowness of my thoughts touched the vastness of the horizon.‭ ‬I believe in standing before the largest horizon possible even if it sometimes slips its mooring like a doomed ocean liner.‭ ‬As the singing birds receded I pushed all the unfinished meals in our street into all the unworn clothes and made a sculpture of a smiling face.‭ ‬I wondered if it would still smile if it knew the truth.

My Diary: The Clothes That Are Worn Inside The Body

June stood stood like a sculpture who had just missed its plinth and in consequence couldn’t quite see over the recently erected wall‭ ‬-‭ ‬I am sure it was deliberately placed to ensure we couldn’t see more than one path at once‭ (‬given the choice I would always choose the oldest anyway‭)‬.‭ ‬She finally left the already flying launch pad and I climbed inside an acoustic guitar to save myself from having to play it‭; ‬that said I was still knocked over by the music cascading down from an unknown point‭ ‬-‭ ‬marked on all maps of the mind by an undecipherable word.‭ ‬Before June came back‭ (‬with wet weather clothing to wear when the sun came out‭) ‬I had shoveled away all the sound and had walked a long way down a path of silence,‭ ‬even though inside I really wanted to shout.

My Diary: I Climb A Hill Instead Of Going Through A Tunnel

I pushed the darkness aside to clamber out to a place where only the bedroom windows were lit.‭ ‬I sneaked up on the bus,‭ ‬not realising that another was sneaking up on me.‭ ‬Most of us travelled west‭ (‬the ones going in the opposite direction were still clutching their door keys which they had foolishly attempted to light like cheroots‭)‬,‭ ‬although I stopped off half way to purchase packets that really shouldn’t be filled and then carried on my journey weighed down by a cathedral spire of dead fish‭ ‬-‭ ‬I was secretly hoping a stranger would come along and reduce it to two‭ (‬and five loaves‭) ‬but sadly there aren’t any strangers left.‭ ‬I met the mountain god in the valley‭ (‬although I knew the surrounding hills well‭) ‬and we talked like grown up writing even though mine never really joined up properly.

My Diary: Finding Comfort in An Interstellar Cloud

I woke up in a diving bell with June fast asleep in a scallop shell.‭ ‬She then dressed in a racing car and went slowly to town.‭ ‬I waved goodbye using the gantry from a Gemini rocket launcher and then burrowed upstairs to write my name on what seemed like a continuous strand of white card that was rapidly moving in front of my multiple eyes.‭ ‬June came home as a steam train in the age of diesels and we examined the contents of her bag as if trying to ascertain the cause of death‭ ‬-‭ ‬I suspected foul play but she assured me it was natural causes.‭ ‬After a short spell of throwing bits of our lunch between us I returned to my upstairs writing and she to her downstairs thoughts‭ ‬-‭ ‬these were interrupted briefly however when the dog got up and changed the television channel.