Thursday, January 20, 2011

Nothing is so admirable in politics as a short memory.


It’s parked there all say, every day, yet it never gets a ticket. Out back of the Withdrawal Unit, St Johns Park, New Town. January 2011.

“Fancy girls push me in the bottom”?

Desire? Complaint? Fantasy?

Fancy girls push me in the bottom”?

A cry for help?

“Fancy girls push me in the bottom”?

Which girls? Where?

“Fancy girls push me in the bottom”?

Who? Why?

“Fancy girls push me in the bottom”?

It’s like that a five-tone musical phrase that’s repeated in Close Encounters of the Third Kind.

Fancy girls push me in the bottom”?

Over and over and over again.

I’m expecting a visit any day soon…

3 comments:

Kris said...

No love for the fancy girls?

Roddy said...

I'm game. A chip off the old tile. They look like a mosaic of better times.

Kris said...

Poor girls.