Nov. 28th, 2003

devi: (Default)
My phone has been missing for a few days. I was wondering whether to cancel the sim card etc, and mourning the loss of yet another telephone number (and this one was easy to remember too), when it was found at Matt's place by his housemate. And I haven't found the time to go all the way over to Manor Park and back to get it yet :/ However, I should manage it this evening when I get out of work.

Sorry to anyone who's been trying to get hold of me!
devi: (Default)
Determined to catch up, I pump out crap.
How things conspire to keep me from my nap.
I have but half an hour to close the gap.

The story is a hank of matted thread.
The ugly beasts who through a library sped,
The social worker who may soon be dead,

A boy who doesn’t see the point of life,
The cartoon sheep who watch a deadly strife,
The laundryman disgruntled with his wife,

A girl who simply can’t make up her mind,
A crow, some future Londoners who find
Incendiary words, some boxes signed

With letters, warnings, cradling lost dreams.
A smiley cultist’s money-spinning schemes.
I think I’ve lost my grip on central themes.

And now the half-hour’s up. Unwise, I know,
For poetry, compared to prose, is slow.
And still almost five thousand words to go.

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