The mass debate never ends – 9th February 1994

Woke up wrapped up in my baby.  Her skin so smooth and soft.  Is it any wonder I wake up erect, groin pushing against her delicate flesh.  I woke gradually but it took more minutes to stir her from her slumber.

She is an angel in the morning – she is an angel with a sore head.  Sour, I called her this morning.  We laughed it off though and I set to a day’s work head held high.  I actually felt worse bodily wise today than the previous two I had off work ill.  I’ve a cold coming on in the head and it promises to be a bastard!


Read Broni’s Dummy and Maddy’s letter this morning which gave me much food for thought though playing catch up on two days work saw to it that I forgot about it til my baby picked me up again.  Some days just flash by like they didn’t actually happen.

My baby worked herself silly again and then cooked a lovely meal and it all caught up with her after elegant sufficiency.  I took the initiative and dragged her out of her coma and we went and played along the watery piers at Poole Park.  She dropped her draws to piss, not realising it was in the light cast from yonder shore – we laughed and ran and let swans follow us, gliding gently across the black waters.

On return to base camp Broni set about more work (!) which took up the rest of the evening.  I took the opportunity of writing up some more poems (dating back to 1988).  There was a couple there I thought were ok.  I’d written down a couple of ideas I’d had floating around in my head and decided to put headgear into action and write full poems around them.  One worked really well and the other led to another great poem.  I wonder if I’ll look back in six years time at these and just think ‘they’re ok’!

Hey, here’s something I wanted to write down: “The world is permeated with roses of happiness all the time, but none of us know it.  The happiness consists in realising that it is all a great strange dream” – Jack Kerouac.  With that, I’ll end the day knowing it’s an exciting time ahead.

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