No blog as such tonight. Been to Verbose again to carry on building the feature for the next issue. David Gaffney was there tonight. I would like to apologise to him here for being a babbling buffoon. There will be more on Verbose tomorrow. It is late and we are very tired here.
Here is a poem.
Swallowed whole by night,
I stand in the throat of the serpent.
The thick black tongue forks in front of me. It’s hard – cold breath beats my
skin pink and raw.
I heard tales about this cycle track late at night. The shaft of a used
syringe winks at me from under
the light of a street – lamp and I
know the stories are true.
I take my first steps onto the solid
body of the path. The walk and cycle
symbols have forgotten which side is which. I see two hooded, shambling figures ahead of me and
decide to go the long way round.