Tuesday, 24 January 2012

Snemmery Flap

Snemmery Flap bust my crangangle,

Snemmery Flap flew my cubes.

Snemmery Flap, in incremental angles,

Verily slapped my cribunous plubes.

Thursday, 5 January 2012

Luke's daughter answers the door

I knock on the door. My knuckles against the varnish is the most contact I have had all day with anything that does not belong to me.

"Is Luke there?" I say.

Luke's daughter is topless apart from a sash she has made from bin liners. She performs some kind of ritualistic dance while leaning on the door to keep it open. It looks like she has oil on her forehead.

Monday, 2 January 2012