DRY MACHINE its dry inside the machine chipping at the sentences that chip at me outside outside outside is a hacked dreamscape of sanctioned fantasy franchise THUNDERDOME a thunderdome of meat puppets wave product placement edited for a film anyone have a golden gun these days ? or a starburst guitar ? DESERT STRINGS i find a white piano in a desert hotel bar stretch out in a corner seat almost 8 years i think 8 years replaying the strange days & strange ways waiting on the emotive drama of a string arrangement at dawn
( in a dept store cafe ) theres a woman cackling over her grandchild then she lists items in a standard xmas dinner her family are on their phones theres an old lady barking like an asthmatic dog like an emphysema crow at a flaking pastry theres her daughter on crutches talking slow so slow slow as illness and quiet as a cloud theres a silent man nothing to eat no tea cup and saucer a shine of use on his knees on his arse of his cheap black asda slacks theres a man in a cap eyes invisible check shirt tucked in trousers high checking out the seed stand for 20 minutes
before choosing nothing ~ i dont fit in here thats why i need to be here ( says my ego ) i make the picture i represent the contrast and context no one is looking for ( says my ego sadly ) ~ just another meat puppet dancing strings pulling at his arm at his hand at his pen scribing words like spiders legs in a small lined spiral bound scribble pad in a stop and start coffee dream