I got up as a weather forecast and met June as the early morning news. I went out into the garden with a mouthful of rock and spat out a flower bed. I had to prepare the garden for the arrival of a sea monster - making sure that the speaking trees were ready for a storm of words and random numbers. June was busy indoors making cakes for King Alfred to burn. After all the people I had ever wanted to be had walked to the end of the pier and looked down I came in like a high tide. By then June had curled up into a monosyllabic word (although a polysyllabic dinner was talking to itself in the oven). I decided to wear a transistor radio instead of clothes - only to be told off for continually changing channels. I later thought a long number had entered…
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Ancien Hippie 