Building castles, pies in the sky, leaving pebbles underneath the neon lights. Did you see the marble statue looking down on us, with an enigmatic and slightly benign smile, injecting magic in an otherwise pink and subdued night. On the merry-go-round, eyes shut tight, the unicorns turn and dance with the swines. A little star dust is the only make up worthy of the dreams in my eyes, and the whisky coloured words no less than our misfit minds deserve.
Give us a few light years and we will have figured out nothing, but by then we might have written a couple of stories & modern myths.
Somewhere, a giant will weep in the darkness and indifference — while secrets, never meant to be kept, will burst, tired of waiting for deliverance.
The poets are dead, I don’t want their decayed crowns on my head, I’m happy with graffiti on the walls of my future, and for bald eagles — utterly appalled — to scream at me in fury.
What else matters but our collection of moments, small slices of life, gathered in my hands while I pose and prance… before releasing them all…and people slow to a crawl…awed and warmed by the joyful colours which didn’t actually cost a single fucking dollar.
*This was inspired by the fantastic evening I spent with Adam last night. The company (and conversation) was so good I managed to sit and drink for hours in a pub garden full of smokers, and not relapse. Quite a feat for this addictive personality, I can assure you. If you haven’t heard of Adam, go and visit him @ AdamDixonFiction – he’s a talented writer and story-teller, as well as a very interesting & fun drinking buddy (obviously)*
Image credit: @biancasomer and @unachicaloca7 on Instagram