(i don't lie, i have zero interest in any place in this whole place that sold itself to Mammon decades back. My only interest is why he, mister Muttin'am, ranty
supposed beefy
builder-poet,
could be quite so sold out...
five yerars ago.
And then why the nexteryear, the so called hardnosed lady of her 'famous' stud
way up high in them midwales hills
fine old stables left rotting for years...
and a man comes along to fix em up...
all one hears day in and out is the saddest sort
of naggin', even by her oldtimer dad.
And then gets gibbed - a fancy word for stealing.
The old-code being one always pays the day man, especially if he bought your groceries on the way up.
How could things have got to that?
Nothing SW even wobbles ones rainrepelling £1 hat
As every drop expected
Anyway yes at least i say it to people's face
Before pondering how to chronicle the commonplace.
All about.
So much more interesting Pastyshire without a doubt.
Lastereve the 'poets' gather.
And two rather good. especially the old woman rolly smoker.
To all four faces "sorry rude to sit at the socket all evelong... yes ive an 'offering' so you wont get me wrong"
"thing is ladies...or is it women....
last time i went to one of these
Bodmin, dead poets society [tm someone else] if you please
All of them, all night moaning
about body, problem, illness
THREEblokes versiifyin on their prostrate!
of three there. [i saw their expensive antique landrovers pulling up, so much distress..]
i felt like goin' down on my knees...
surely poeming's to make you be alive, fight on... eat the stingybees live
one by one by the gobful wholesale hive by hive
But no merely moan,
'cos of my prostrate i nearly [southern grammar] stayed home'..
and the women with their far more aristocratic conditions...
i left in the intermission
shouldv asked for my 'donation' back...
ohh forgot i have second sight and kept my pennies back "
Anyway the subtle art of its impossible to make any bought in to their fantasy
think one has one millisecond of interest in their fantasy "community"
Just like hers down Hatesville way and i didn't say that! t'was she...
But i did see something beautiful today.
Keeps happening where least expected.
None of my biz, my safety fencer erected.
(but who was that thisters waved at me ..." did you see her do you know her..?" "no mate not me.."
No not her the fabulous book of old timers pictured.
especially the moorish lasses haytruck laughing, and i know not staged.
some real smiles do not age...
oops forgot why i even turned it on...
especially on a walking one)
