Fence, offence. Steal a fence. Fence with bad guys. Spend money on my fiance. Finance. Sit on the fence.
“I’m worries someone will punch you”
So am I.
Everyone’s taking offence.
Taking my fence.
I sit on it.
That’s why I build walls around myself.
Fences protect me.
That’s why I want a dog.
Rock star, pale skin. jumped through time and space.
Police out the front of the house.
He jumped through a worm hole, a tear in reality.
He was on stage, about to perform, then a rent opened up behind him.
In a grate maybe, like the ones you see on the gutter.
-I saw it from my reality-
Cops out the front of the house, lots of cars.
His with the door still open, fled into the neighbours place.
The backyard was huge.
I was in the kitchen.
I looked out the window and saw him; stirring.
I took him back to my room and hid him.
He explained that we could bother travel between.
There was a special name for us.
He said his gig wouldn’t be spoilt.
It was just going to be a big publicity stunt.
He stayed in my room, I was interviewed by the police.
Dad came home and went into my room.
I finished with the cops, and when I went to my room.
He was gone.
Then I saw the dream from his perspective.
When he landed in a location, he had to bind a return key to an object.
He always bound it to a stomped on silver diet coke can,
the can had a zipper on the side that would unravel the can and turn it into a rent.
I woke up groggy and not hungry;
That’s been happening a lot lately.
Today I met a girl named Claire at Uni.
Economics of all places.
I saw kids doing back flips in the park,
So young, gravity defying.
The kids next door are getting really into biking.
I went to the cafe down the rivulet track,
Guy works there. He’s a good barista.
He would have forgotten my name.
I had coffee with Megan.
Not at Hamlet. Another place.
We walked in the evening light.
I called myself Patience.
PAT for short.
“you’d have to be patient to put up with you, WAYYY BANTER”.
A classic from me.
I gave her a back rub.
Dad walked along silently.
There were no platypus.
I have an assignment due Friday.
Its stressing me out a little.
I’ll find my flow tomorrow.
French too. Eeee-gads.
My feet are cold at the moment-
I felt like I had some much more to share.
I’ve had a strange taste in my mouth recently.
Bitter, mucus, floury. odd. off.
Me-again, and I talked this evening.
Sat in bed. Shared thoughts. Bared out feelings.
Bared, funny word. All positive.
She brought up slam poetry.
I need to dig through some of my work.
It makes me nervous to think it is something i’d be interested in doing.
I cower behind the idea of not performing.
Why did you have sex with me in public?
Did I evolve your mind.
How do you challenge yourself?
Give answers you, yourself would not expect.
Self, higher self, super ego.
Constructs. Models. Theories, Ideas.
Explanations of observations.
Rose tinted glasses.
Interesting, cute, fascinating.
ZHU tickets bought.
How are zhu.
Going to the zhu.
How does weather work?
What’s the maximum travel distance of clouds before they rain?
How high up are they.
Where does rain come from?
Which direction generally?
What’s the best speech you ever saw in the flesh?
Who were some great talkers of their time.
My point was the difference between BEING somewhere, and HEARING, FEELING the speech, vs the ethereal effect of television with messages.
I wonder about mood.
Crowd feeling. Mentality.
A rally. A speech. A talk. A lecture.
Shakespeare’s sonnet 18.
Shall I compare you to a summer’s day?
Dyed my hair red.