Tuesday, 28 February 2012

Old man look at my life

If I dissected him I'd find nothing but chalk and wish bones. Great piles of wish bones and crumbling white chalk, dry and crackable as twigs. Aching forward steps. His pace might have been languid, if it wasn't for the chalk, if it wasn't for the wish bones. I pushed him over and now I'm going to pry him apart and try snapping his innards for luck.

No comments: