Monthly Archives: November 2011


December the 2nd, it has been plaguing me since last year, well December at least. Now I am firm on the 2nd. Lotto win? A final end of a shit job? A shift at the bar? I am sure December was the big ALL CHANGE. West End saloon. ESCAPE.

The world can not slow down enough, or speed up, or let me get off. 2 days huh. 2 darn days.

I should maybe make my peace, should maybe wear a nice dress. Should maybe expect nothing to happen at all.

I think the best plan of action is to run round in circles with my hands bobbing in the air then settle down with some lego. That is probably the best plan in the world… In two days time. Maybe get some jelly and ice cream too.



Time trundles by

Like grapefruits in a storm

Or zombies in a barn

Forever circles

Animals in cages

Sometimes they get let out

And cause a riot

Like an Eastenders christmas special.




took a little pill

Thoughts of feeling better

Seemed to make her ill

And I can’t take any more


Rexcia thought of love

But starved it all away

Thoughts of being perfect

Made them run away

And I can’t take any more


Elena wanted fame

But was told to fade away

Words of being zero

Killed her before the stage

And I can’t take any more.


I can’t take anymore


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Suddenly I remembered where eggs come from, and threw my half digested breakfast back up again

Unborn creatures, on this earth to be born, grow, eat, fuck and die, and be eaten by others at any stage. They know their place in life.

I don’t

Skimming through peoples lives, dog-eared photographs of memories dotted around, achievements – none, half way through living and spinning dangerously into the latter part with no control or direction.

Then someone reminded me they were unfertilised anyway, the eggs, so they never would amount to much.

Then I knew my place in life.


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They said she used to sing

Before the smoke and drink tore her throat apart

And she had all the boys chasing

Now all she does is think about Billy

Sitting on the barstool

Yellowing over a mothers ruin and a slice

Clothes ten years old and ten years too young

Hanging on a hollowing frame

She always had a story though

And cackled like a hen

And those who remembered her beauty say

I remember when

I remember when.

This is an entry for the Mookychick blogging competition, FEMINIST FLASH FICTION 2011. Enter now.

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Think straight, stand up and move on

Don’t let them in or get to you

Smells like cat sick and dead monkeys

And it make you feel dispondant


Possible martyr

Protect the strong, kick out the weak

Settle into the sound of your two flat feet

Walking to the sound of clangs, booms and bashes

Never let them under your skin

And don’t forget to wipe.




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The welsh barman started singing Delilah at me, full pelt, my good friend who sat next to me laughed, I laughed, we were almost in tears of by the chorus. His friends were laughing too, at him. It was a peacock fanning his feathers at a hen, a human mating call involving drink and sounds. It was a true distraction, and though my feathers did not stir, it was good to smile again.

Spending days waiting for something that never came, wondering if I had said something wrong, taken the losing chess move. It was always cryptic, and I was too naive to work it all out.

But in the bar I was laughing, putting bets on a mongoose and drinking gentle ales. Tunes had changed to ‘Run To The Hills’ but for once I didn’t want to. Settling is a very hard thing to do but this town was pulling me off the high-wire and cushioning the fall. For once I was letting it, running is so tiring.

Lost love, a lost tooth and a lost job. All comes in threes.

It makes the winning all the better, when it comes.

And I followed the bluebird home.


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