Stan  Yes  I am going ro become a street artist  That will be nice for you  But I am only going to write  In red blue and white  What will be your message to the world  We are asleep Our life is a dream  But we wake up sometimes  Just enough to know  That we are dreaming  […]

A train leaves A deep tunnel  A snow mist follows it 

My cousin was naked  And sitting in a wicker chair  Yet it was not her nudity  Than interested me  But the intricate patterns  Of her exquisite dreams 

Nothing is dead  So are the snow bears  I do not mourn them  Why should I be different 

I had built a mannequin of great beauty  But she was lifeless in my small workshop  I wanted her to sing dance and stay with me But she had never left the wastes of my frozen pad  The town of my residence was bleak and dour  So I used my pencils pastel to colour the barren sky   As I […]

What are you doing Stan  Writing as normal  Or rather thinking then writing  Do you realise that thousands of turkeys and thousands of trees  Is this going to be a Christmas fact Stan  Are slaughtered each year to celebrate a single birth  Not listening Stan not listening Stan  La la La la La La  Finished […]

I was standing outside of a bookshop  In a city beset by wild winter winds  A blush velvet chair was in its small window  A woman almost hidden within a thick black coat  Stood next to me and handed me a photograph  The image although aged was of a white skull  Recently exhumed from its eternal […]

I have often noticed  A blush velvet chair  In the small side window  Of my local bookshop  Nobody seems to use it  And its stark vacancy  Is even more confused  By the presence of a book  Partially opened and half hidden  From direct view by a leg of the chair  The Origins of Romantic Poetry  Is the […]

Do you know what I hate about you  No  The thing that I hate about you is that you are so fucking boring  A big film director  You are nothing but a fake  Your films are so fucking boring  They are not true to life  All your characters are wooden  Do you know why I […]

How are you feeling Stan  Rough still  You have caught a chill  Possibly  It may have been when you got soaked the other day at the game  I know but football is my mistress  And I am your wife  I do wish that you shared my passion Jane  For twenty two grown men running around a field […]