Sat, 12 April 2008
Toto, we are not in Kanto anymore. No more Tokyo Panic Living until further notice!
Here's the poem I read by Patrick Widdess called "Slug":
I do not hear its single foot
slip beneath my bed,
turn dust into silver
and make a soggy doily
of last month’s gas bill.
But the morning sheds light
on its nocturnal wanderings
charted in dry mucus,
its glittering autograph
scrawled across yesterday’s paper.
I set mouse traps with lettuce leaves,
surround my bed with half-empty beer glasses,
scatter pellets like deadly confetti.
I sleep well for a week
then find a survivor;
inch long and mossy green,
relaxing by the radiator.
It’s then I notice the leafy odour,
and the sheepskin rug; tacky underfoot.
I dare not look beneath the bed
but lie awake, ear to the mattress
At dawn I start to drift
and sense the bed being lifted
on a thousand slithering backs,
doors sliding open, and the morning air;
cold and sharp against my cheek.
"Love is All Around" by the Troggs (and according to Patrick, it was covered by Wet! Wet! Wet! in the 90s as well).
Tags: NFTOS, psychotropic, Tropic of Capricorn, Henry Miller, Patrick Widdess, poet, headstand, 209radio.co.uk, Auckland, wwoofing, New Zealand, Otara Market, Coronation Street, Lost, Boston Legal, Sazae-san, Chibi Maruko, Sand, The Inspectors, The Earlybirds, Calamity Jam, The Troggs, Paris-Roubaix cycling classic
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