415 brain

When I was waiting at the bus stop four blokes walked past and each gave me the eyelash to toenail eyelash to toenail eyelash to toenail eyelash to toenail. I turned to my left to watch a man read the timetable.

A boy went by on a skateboard using his arms like the wings of an aeroplane.

I got into the bus and the lights were too bright. They are always too bright. I put on my sunglasses.

The 415 to Tulse Hill station.


I would like a bit more than I have; for this teenage energy to not rear its head as often as it does.

Every time I hear Rosalind I have to close my eyes.

The St. Matthews Estate.


Michael Pitt dancing very slowly to Gregory Porter while I look at a postbox.

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