Our landlord burnt down our house.
I blew dandelion clocks into my own eyes.
I hit seventeen potholes and a dual carriageway.
We needed petrol.
My wife was too ill to shop for food.
There were alien abductions in my hometown.
We think they wanted our tin mine secrets.
My coffee was somewhere between americano and espresso.
I chose the wrong night to entertain.
Last night I swapped therapy for therapy.
I think I’m ready to live.
My peas are all wasabi.
And my soya is now unsweetened.
We gave feedback.
But it was really how we saw ourselves.
Everything is reflection now.
Thirty three coffees and I can fly to London.
My novel now has margins.
And that’s ok.
This is all ok.
And then we had our friends round for pizza.
How was your day?
– Aaron Kent
[I CHOSE THE WRONG NIGHT TO ENTERTAIN]
The transactional life
The tranceactual wave
The transfer of the woven
The wooden trap
The mining town
The gathering for mail
The chamber pots are thunder jugs
The mine was discovered
The discovery was a survey
The surveyor worked for the Army
The Army didn’t know
The concern about silver prices
The collapse of the catacombs
The anthill sculptures
The lead in the anthills
The hypnotized catwalk
The border and the fear
The forsaken spool
The mistaken spin
– Mike Young