A morning gone so ungood
...
We still have colds
Worse than yesterday
Which is annoying after 10 days
Plus the travel shop has disappeared
And the one i found after too much walking in the hot sun
Was first a pain-in-the-butt rip-off joint
And second had a powercut so have to go back for ticket
And third i cannot work out if we need US dollars to buy our Nepalese visas at the border
Every version differs
Then the bookshop we pilgrimmed too was crap
...
All in all, a morning gone so ungood i hesitate to sit in front of this screen
Because it seems too likely a
large fist will burst out of it and wallop me on the nose
...
You know that Bob Dylan line?
This telephone was ringing
It just about blew my mind
When i picked it up and said hello
This foot came through the line
...
That’s Bob Dylans 115th dream
My favourite Bob Dylan song
And the origin of much performance poetry
Johnny Clarke must know it very well
On the other hand
Lyrically its fairly Chuck Berry
Who i reckon is the chief origin of Bob Dylan’s verbal humour
Subterranean Homesick blues is Too Much Monkey Business on amphetamines
And Chuck Berry and Bob Dylan are where i start...
...
In the mean time i’m going back to a darkened room to lie on the bed so nothing bad can happen beyond the demise of the British Empire in The Last 1000 Days Of The British Empire
Which is OK, in fact good
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