25th March, 2010

I’m walking down the street talking to a friend when she comes up to me and tears my heart from out my chest.

I’m unsure how to respond, the situation is kind of awkward, I haven’t known this friend long and I can see that he’s rather uncomfortable as well.

I’m just about to say something, protest that she’s being too rash, when she abruptly about turns and walks away.

I restrain myself from chasing after her, my friend is still stood there and I’m worried what he’ll think of me.

An innocent man walks by, with a green coat and no dog, he gives no indication but I’m sure he knows.

I want to grab him by the collar, punch him, punch him in his stupid face until he’s bleeding and he’s lost all his teeth.

My friend suggests we stop for a coffee, I joke that I like mine like my women; strong and bitter.

Flash Fiction

He wasn’t sure how he felt about flash fiction; the only real impression that remained, burnt to his retina by the bright light of the camera flash, was the image (or only the shape) of her incredible tits as she’d lifted her top to reveal them.

Pagan Poetry

A poem constructed entirely out of Bjork song titles? Your wish is my command…

Pleasure is all mine;
it’s in our hands.
Where is the line?

Big time sensuality all neon
like pleasure is all mine.

Wanderlust, hidden place,
where is the line?

Alarm call. Play dead.
Pleasure is all mine.

Immature. Forgive me.
Where is the line?

Violently happy
like someone in love.

Pleasure is all mine.
Where is the line?