Thursday, 23 June 2016

Saturday, 18 June 2016

BT Pulse.

The days muddle within themselves, as pressure builds and valves crack ; affliction clinging in between pores and densities, and the hard luck-living of  top-down stress. An electro- fractured life. Five days ago I attempted to walk up the Euston road- taste the world, merge with good; but Mordor  sat cranked up and looming in a 300 foot high blast-wave circle of unceasing ariel constraint. I had to turn back from the waves; that trembling shingle of malignant concern, showering it's electronic miasma through roofs, across blood-brain barriers down through walls and bones. I only saw half of what I had come to see and even less than what I had wanted.  MB




© MB