10 hours ago
Friday, 28 October 2011
Thursday, 27 October 2011
Friday, 14 October 2011
Took off-roads got hawks, toadstools and bird towers. Hill slants and sideways climbs. Closer view. Foothills. fields that shape and breathe.
The straight line. The toll troll. Formal fuel trades, tired. The motorway is a blind swipe on the beg-eye.
Take me longer.
And never easy.
Friday, 7 October 2011
I keep listening on this French motorway. Crying without tears. They got stole away by the close trees and the wide corn, they wipe my eyes as I keep moving. I feel old and I feel young. Seeking slanted comfort in a song about escape, about death.
"Through ages man's desires
To free his mind, to release his very soul
Has proved to all that live
That death itself is freedom for evermore."