A rebel without a clue.

Leeds is such a lonely city Bumper to bumper; stretching home. There they sit surrounded by walls Here I sit defined by brick and glass The lights switch on Pouring waves against The clashes in denial Unnatural and beyond me. They do this willingly? Everyday the gap grows And community shrinks Lungs fill up in a last choke Another puffs a cigarette Double destiny being such sorrow A way too dense to pull out Harming everything we ever had It is a picture of the end Days left spluttering, Cough and the life fades.

Aghh! Monday morning and I had no coffee beans in their Delonghi machine... How did man cope in the morning before the sudden appearance of Arabica and Robusta? On small beer or some leaf with some caffeine in it? Other than tea? Although tea goes back centuries when did it reach the west? Time to gather myself together shortly for the dismal trip to Leeds just to collect any mail from the DWP; it is pending. A few moments ago I thought I was enjoying Wetherby then I was reminded that this can never be the case... In moments I dwell in happiness, but it's too brief. A man without a t-shirt on walks into The Oven Door and I wonder...they probably serve him without a moment's pause. Archie and I called into Emma's to feed her fish and went up to the allotment to water Andy's celery and our tomatoes and courgettes: this warm week might bring some colour to those many which are green? A wasp alighted on the page I was reading and cleaned it's antennae as I pondered Lewi...