Morning, all.

Wake up.
Resent waking up- check time to see if there’s any chance of sleeping a little more.
Get up. Get dressed. Put kettle on.
Talk to cat. Pet cat. Feed cat if necessary (cat always thinks it’s necessary).
Brush teeth.
Make tea.
Roll cigarette.
Drink tea. Smoke cigarette. Scan news without taking it in.
Feel terror. Horrible fucking awful tight chested panicky terror.
Sweat alcohol.
Go to the toilet. Wash hair.
Tell mirror that this is the absolute worst feeling lowest part of the week-
it can only get better from here.
Try to believe that.
Check eyes for bloodshottery.
Finish tea. Put kettle on again, if there’s time.
Take sandwich out of fridge or make a sandwich or fuck the damn sandwich.
Put coat on.
Turn radio on. Insert headphones.
Say goodbye.
Go.

Holy War

!!!!

Preacherpatter

Nitwitsplatter

Buddah bitter better batter

!!!!

Delphinus

Did dolphins dream up origin myths

of fluid deities who proclaimed through

whistles, burst-pulsed sounds and clicks?

Did dolphins recite epic tales

of ancient heroes so severe

that, hearing, little whales might feel a little bit afraid?

Or, buoyed up by legend, did they ever get it wrong?

“Porpoise pogrom  ’43. Son, I hope you’ll never see

sight nor likes of that. Please god those days are gone.”

Did dolphins dream up origin myths

Vague enough, though much believed?

Don’t dolphins deal in Trojan Fish?

Revolting Peasant Blues

The peasants are revolting!

The bosses are corrupt!

My WiFi might be watching me!

By Jove! I think we’re F****d!