Archive for August, 2005

On the way home

Tuesday, August 23rd, 2005

Sitting on the dreary bleak, uninviting plateform of Waterloo Station, deviding up a benson and hedge cigerette with her shivering boyfirend. This Friday nighttime is full of rejected drunks, and for the first time, we are not the drunkest; by comparison we are looking quite good. Latenight, paranoid foreigns don’t even stare —occasionally they ask […]

Growing old

Tuesday, August 23rd, 2005

Observing the worn down dear stunned me. I personally gawped honestly at the kind maturing lines below her eyes and her defalted lips,. Worry lines on her forehead compounded. I resist the tempation to try and smooth then away . Then I see a smile that shows up all the sweetlines from laughter around […]

Beggar lady

Sunday, August 21st, 2005

Croched on the harsh damp, dank plateform of Kings Cross station, spliting a soggle ciggerete
with a lover. This Sunday night is full of rejected drunks, and for once, we are not quite the most intoxicated; nor are we the the worst smelling. Late night, unsettled foreigns blank us —a couple smile. We are spreading […]

Old Age

Sunday, August 21st, 2005

Seeing the ancient hag bewildered me. I stare sincerely at the soft old winkles around her month an da the clumps of missign hair,. The wrinkles on her brow intesified. I want to reach out to smooth them away . Then she starts to grin that amplifies her laughter lines about her mouth. The […]

Damp cold steps

Saturday, August 20th, 2005

Croched on the bleak damp, cold steps of Kings Cross, deviding up a metho cigerette miserableth a lover. This Sunday nighttime is full of rejected drunks, and this time, we are not the drunkest; we do not smell the worst. Late night, cold foreigns don’t even stare —a few get up the courage to ask […]

Angel on the underground

Saturday, August 20th, 2005

Positioned on the lonely drippy, cold steps of Charing cross, spliting a rolly with a boyfriend. This Saturday early morning is a commune for the drunk and hopeless, and for once, we’re not the worst off; we don;t even look that bad by comparison.. Lost, parenoid tourists don’t even look —a couple ask for diections. […]