The day began with the sound of two clocks ticking on opposite sides
of the room. Outside the sky was low, the colour of thin blue milk.
An Art Car dressed in dust between empty beer barrels in the back yard
of a night club – the same car we used to ride on the front wings of as kids.
Straddling it’s headlamps as you drove up forest tracks between avenues of
statuesque pine. You parked it in the garden & we watched it rot.
Cats had kittens in it’s boot & mice nested in it’s petrol tank. You sold the
bodywork for scrap & the kids drove what was left on adventures
around an imaginary world. The day began with the sound of two clocks
ticking on opposite side of the room. The radio sang,
“Hallelujah! – go north to Iona“.