Saturday, November 24, 2007

Angels passing by

impossible songs

impossible songs

Reports of clever things.

Cats not crashing down from atop curtain poles but waiting for rescue and then offering mild scratchy resistance.
Driving in the dark, in the rain and in the cold.
Sleeping on the couch.
Forgetting to eat, missing meals, eating snacks and losing track of time.
Stopping and looking over hedges and noticing how much rubbish people throw out from their cars.
Pedal carts and self propelled diggers.
Medallions of bacon three thick upon a roll topped with salsa.
A cruise liner sinks in the Antarctic, the news reports that those rescued were cold.
25 million records are missing – they are held on 2 CDs. That makes the UK population worth about 4.5 CDs. A sobering thought.
Channel hopping.
The rain is slowly washing away our elaborate network of roads.
Being in Morrison’s in Aberdeen is like being in Latvia.
A car boot full of random objects and things purchased without any clear plan being in place.
Thinking about WC Fields love of the way words sound rather than what they may mean.
Listening to the Bing Crosby story on the radio.
Dreaming of lost keys and having to close down and lock up an amusement park - alone.
The sea crashing onto the land like neither ever learns.
Following a blue Ford Focus with an L plate and finding that another blue Ford Focus with an L plate has squeezed in between us. How strange.


Wistful disapproval
Penance there to pay
Look at the world through binoculars
And try to find a way

Distance pushed between us
Battle plans are drawn
Drums will rumble and curtains tear
The peace just rages on

Spies and notes and subterfuge
Sorcery and device
Hell and heaven will dance alone
With angels passing by.

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