little deaths

watching a film called Sorry, Baby

written and directed

who knows better than who wrote it

                                                no one

he loved the presentation of doors viewed through other doorways

windows viewed seeing without  seeing  reflected   within

when people leave

                          waving goodbye  the sudden alonelonesomeness

   driving away

                     trying to escape the lonesomeness at their backs     escape

their hearts heavy

their lungs sigh despite their best efforts to suppress the sigh

 

hes lonesome when they leave him

leaving through the front door

through windows

up the chimney like smoke

                            vanished

before his eyes

he only blinked

theyre gone

                       Where did you go

I said goodbye.

I didnt expect you to go until goodbye went out of my ears

                                                             I didn’t know it lingered.

It does

I didn’t know.

                    How long does it take?

I don know

                People are always gone before its gone

It reminds me . . .

 

Reminds you?

Jah

 

Of what?

 

Tha gasp tha little death

                                When we cum

Irretrievable

 

 

Is there anything I can sa . .

. . No

                 No        

1925,  Saturday,  24  1. 26

he knew the gambitdidnt get it

                                  he wasnt one to be jealous and yet guys thought they could make him jealous of them going out with women who did not interest him in the least

he wasnt attracted physically first hurtle

wasnt attracted to their minds second

    Strike Two an youre out

there was nothing beyond beyond Strike Two

                                                did they think that bragging the women were easy interested him

it offended himwasnt theirs to say

                                     did they not think that that painted them easy too

another offence

why even bother approaching him

locker room talk

                        who wanted to listen to a bunch of cuntsold enough to know better

acting juvenal

acting venal

 

Dude, you have no idea what you’re missing.

                                                   asif Dude inspired him               

perhaps they were the lowest common denominator

                                                            they?

boys wouldnt call them men

girls had no idea if he could call them women

                                                   he overheard one side as he walked out

You’re jealous.

asif hed rise to a taut

 

he was a native Brown trout

flyfished them for years

he was an accomplished flyfisherman

hadnt caught one yet

543preferred,  Saturday,  24  1. 26

Bill Hems

apparently not hemmed innot dead as he was informed more than twenty years ago

he was told after the funeral if there was one

                                             after one of Bills subcontractors he the other had negotiated with Bills sister Bills executor the transfer of Bills roofing business into his hands after he and Bill met not three weeks earlier to have him take over the business

                                                            he declined

the other subcontractor did not know thathe couldnt remember the fat pricks name

                                                   they did not get alone kindly

why not deadhemmed in

Bills eyes

watery oystery pale blue eyes set in a weathered face either side of a hawkish nose

                                                                                            unforgettable

he watched Bill sixty years old fling himself off a secondstorey roof across a driveway to another secondstory house scramble diagonally down it throw himself onto the roof over the front porch then into a young tree to the ground as a Trade Union enforcer started up his car rolling up his window as Bill slammed his roofing axe into the roof over the mans heads Bill shrieking

                                                                 Come around here again I’ll kill you!

that night on the way home Bill dropping him off

                                                     If you think I’m lying, look in the glovebox.

he looked

a loaded .38 snubnosed revolver

I’ll shove it in his eye blow out his brainstryin’ to keep me off my job intimidate me I’ll kill him.

he didnt say it

                 he had no doubt that that spidermonkey of an aged man wouldnt

Bill lectured him it was easy to get away with murder

                                                         find a random stranger shoot them dead couldnt possibly tie them together police werent able to defy probable cause because murdering a complete stranger is improbable

                In the wrong place at the wrong time.

That’s tough.

Bill was a rabid Bircher

tried to radicalise him

he read the pamphlets Bill shared with him

the following morning he handed them back respected them did not tear them up

                                                                                      Bill  I don agree

Billd eye the glovebox

Im closer to it than you are

 

watery oystery pale blue eyes set in a weathered face either side of a hawkish nose

                                                                                           nobody in the world but Bill had those eyes

                                                                                                   nobody that scarred weathered face

                                                                                                        nobody that savage nose

the spidermonkey timeleaped from then till now

                                                     driving past him slowly in the opposite direction as he walked on a rotting concrete road Bill tapped the rolledup drivers window with a .38 snubnose

approxly1345,  Saturday,  24  1. 26

Pretty

Did I detect a falsetto in your voice

You did

             Its a very pretty word

Faience

Look at you reading my mind

Were surrounded

                      Fine tin-glazed pottery

Yes  Thas right

                   However tha isnt wha I found attractive The three vowels in a row  A I E

And of course if a capital F the word without a fishhook lies on line

                                                                         Have you looked at faience  Small f

I have  It is sinuous

                         I prefer it to it capitalised

Pretty words

                 Youre still takin heat for tha

I am thas okay

                   I read a quote yesterday tha appealed to me an the next time someone disputes pretty or attractive words Ill use

Out of Hofstadters Anti-Intellectualism

Jah

they laughed

                   Were not only reading your mind but over your shoulder

Youre cute

            George Whitefield

Jah

      Please  The quote again

The reason why Congregations have been so dead is because dead Men preach to them.

Meaning

If they cant see beauty in a word its configuration 

 

 

Theyre dead

A part of them must be

                           Although without a whiff of rot

   Ouch

I thought so

              Small f faience  Small f faint aint   attractive

To make a comparison

Jah  To compare

                    I trust I do not hurt faints feelings

Very thoughtful

Not at all

            My configuration

1552,  reggaefriday,  23  1. 26

1234,  Saturday,  24  1. 26

George Whitefield  https://www.pbs.org/wgbh/pages/frontline/godinamerica/people/george-whitefield.html

holding a cup to his lipshadnt taken a sip

The Guardian on the screen

he began “White House posts digitally altered image of woman arrested after ICE protest”

https://www.theguardian.com/us-news/2026/jan/22/white-house-ice-protest-arrest-altered-image

    aghast

set the coffee down

his repulsion stronger than a bolt of caffeine

it disrupted his routine

Kaelan Dorr

White House deputy communications director

“YET AGAIN to the people who feel the need to reflexively defend perpetrators of heinous crimes in our country I share with you this message: Enforcement of the law will continue. The memes will continue. Thank you for your attention to this matter.” 

what a piece of shit

The White House

       IS

     a toilet

 

The seat of government whispered mariachis

he nodded

             Thank you for humouring me

 

finishing the article he pushed back from his desk took the cup back into the kitchen reheated the coffee in a saucepan returned ignored the screen tried to decide between books All Systems Red by Martha Wells murderbot which beckoned him strenuously  briefly vacillated between Blood Memory Coyote America  opted on Hofstadters Anti-Intellectualism in American Life

1049,  Saturday,  24  1. 26