YESTERDAY’S JOKER – as was, as is Cheek by jowlthe restless pigeonswatch and waitwait and watch‘No croissant crumbs today guys’He breakfasts only onsteaming expresso and nicotine He contemplates this and thatavoiding the issue at handalways dodging ‘that’ topicputs it on the back burnerfor now he takes the ’round the houses walk’homeward bound She does not … More YESTERDAY’S JOKER
From London a gent of consummate mannersFrom Paris an homme of great charmFrom Berlin a männlich so determinedAnd a New Yorker set out to disarm It was from this fashion house of loversSvetlana felt she needed to chooseJust the one who she saw as her soul mateBe the one she did not want to lose … More A FASHION HOUSE OF LOVERS
Prior to her exploitation, she had deduced she needed hard currency and friends.That to be immersed within this human race, such things paid worthy dividendsyet time was not on her side, she would be carbon dust by dawn’s first lighther incineration, the chosen method, ridding the cosmos of the blightthe wise men perceived as actual, … More OF A GIRL NAMED ‘MAYDAY’
Originally posted on The Whitechapel Whelk:
A 97-year-old man from Kentish Town in West London was being held in police custody last night after he blasted his 101-year-old wife in the chest with a shotgun in a fit of rage after discovering that post-Brexit bananas were still curved and not straight as had been promised…
In a particle of time before infinity went viral: Imagine if you can, a yesterday, a today, a tomorrow, all unable to boast of unambiguous powers of retention or, perhaps, frivolous sex lacking a diarised recall, maybe a backpacker’s wet dream short of heavenly remembrance, then again, perhaps conceivably priceless drugs devoid of hallucination’s recollections … More THE GENESIS OF CONSCIOUSNESS – LADY FREYA HELLA’S ACCOUNT
A Time-Travelling Tale that ends well Christmas Day, 2842CE. A universe aeons away goes ‘phut’: In no more than a picosecond, complete darkness. The only sound, that of a whispering zephyr. In its wake, a pseudo macrocosm’s ever-decreasing guttural burps fading away into a soundless zilch. Left behind, ruination’s nothingness. The crumpled scum perished. Once … More THE BUTTERFLY’S EMBRACE
Above: SHIRL’S CAFÉ & TABAC I’ll not be blogging for a couple of weeks or so. You see, having been forced by irksome airborne germs to cancel our usual lengthy summer sojourn across La Manche to a better place, crazy woman Shirl concluded we needed a break, a holiday of sorts. Spending good money on … More AN INSIDE OUT ESCAPE FROM LOCKDOWN
When I last closed my drowsy eyes it was to the accompaniment of an apt, from my biased point of view, cryptic song. The song was new to me, yet notwithstanding my poor state of being, I fell in love with it at once. Its title? ‘Fly Me to the Moon’ sung originally, I was … More THE REBIRTH OF THE BLUE-EYED CAT
Before, in the putative asylum of her bedroom whether alone or in the company of lovers the one of curious Grecian genesis would always keep alight the loose hanging shade-less bulb As a vocal self-proclaimed freethinker those who understood these things thought this her greatest contradiction The ignorance of brawn afforded him an ability to … More CARDBOARD CITY
During the occupation of Paris the actress Arletty had a relationship with Hans Jürgen Soehring, a Luftwaffe officer, and gave the famous riposte to a member of the French Forces of the Interior interrogating her after the Liberation: ‘My heart is French, but my ass is international’ It seems that the French authorities had Ms … More THE SNOW WHITE TIGRESS by Mike Steeden
