i think the bunnies are fighting

i can hear them ... disgruntled little rabbit is standing at attention next to big rabbit's house. there are irritated sounds coming from their direction.

for once, it seems likely to be the little one's fault. fussy little bugger, should leave big rabbit alone!

i am tired. deeply, achingly tired.



the coast.
sometimes, in Past Times, weekends are almost monumental. those times where life, and movement, it becomes so strong and dramatic that each scene forms against the next, cinematic, hyperreal.

there was a softness at the coast though. at moments, it was like the lens was twisted slightly and it focused, like lying on the beach at night, music blaring, toxins flowing in bloodlines between us, snow angels in sand, the moon clouds chance touches arms around me oh yes, people moving shadily sitting in circle quiet now, music music, smell the beach the sand, that grit, bury your fingers deep in the sand, that's all you can feel that softness. breathe.


then focus out again.

i slept mostly. more hours than i was awake.

i read some larkin. i like him more than auden, or coleridge, who i took along as well. coleridge is turgid.


today, i got a camera. this is celebrating being an officially qualified librarian. my sentences are slowing down underhand, and i am moving towards... away from. ayh. sleep.