105. The second reel (23 Aug 2015).

Some fag end of the weekend doggeral, dipped in spite and fear. Being one of a multitude has never been reassuring. So before I go and leave this here there just remains to say. This has pretty much percolated up just now. It’s taken maybe half an albums listening to do as I was on the cusp of going to count more Zeds to be added to the collection. Zzzzzzzz….

105. The second reel. (23 Aug 2015).

I’m going to hell in a bedsheet,
With a duvet for a sidearm
A pillow for a Stetson,
And a dream in which,
The office gets to play Hadleyville,
My desks the marshalls office,
And my seats the one,
Where Frank Miller sat,
But even though I know the ending,
And the middle through and through,
Monday’s now fresh out of jail,
Coming on the midnight train,
Leaving me alone to feel,
Like one of Miller’s men.
That never sees the second reel,

© Jim Laing 2015.

About Jim Laing

The Buddha said there were four kinds of people. Those who run from dark to dark, those who run from light to dark, those who run from dark to light and those who run from light to light. From a life going from dark to dark to having a few years running from dark to light, with scuffed hands and knees from sometimes falling, I may be getting the hang of it now. How it began is not now how it is, I need a quiet space, After the noise of the day, So I take sanctuary in the creativity, And my soul feeds, On sometimes dark, Sometimes light fantasy, And I dare like many to work, But stay up off my knees, To dream, perchance to suffer, But always still to dream. Here are things mostly lyrical and poetic, with nonsense sometimes, reviews and personal musings. The coffees hot and always black. The words not necessarily so.
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