THERE’S LIGHT IN THE MIDDLE OF IT:
A day that started like a drive by a long slag heap at dawn.
Grey light breaking through black cloud that touched the ground,
heavy with rain. Cartoon demons with zig-zag mouths live beneath
the slag that glistens like leviathans backs rising out’ve filthy rivers.
Imagining I’m sat in the sun at a california intersection I count cars,
noting their exotic colours. A phone call from Australia reminds me
to be grateful for winter as temperatures at the other end of the line
reach 90 degrees. In the studio it’s the same season all year round,
only the music changes. Today I start before breakfast with ‘Blissard‘