to morrisons partick, hover on a ba’ sac/re-up on buddha and kippers

i met a pal at the supermarket and i think he mentioned he had recently had an injury to the testicles. and then i bought some kippers…

jerk foul, jerk fish, take the pineapple express

i had jerk fish and chips at a carribean themed restaurant and it was really nice. best fish and chips ever probably. there must have been a pineapple chutney or something. it reminded me of roots manuva’s witness (1 hope). and to avoid accusations of plagiarism, i named the verse ‘witness (1 dope)’, me being the dope eating the jerk and summoning the power of banana clan.

pant leg micturition is a viable system

so i have a pair of basketball shorts i wear to the gym that are too big for me, so i need to tie the waistband quite tight. but then i have to undo it if i want to pee. what a pain in the arse. then i realised i can just pee out the leg of the shorts. also useful on the bike or out for a trail run.

cold, wet, gravel, ice… and light new hoops.

sleepy as hell this morning after a big day on the bike in the hills in the sun yesterday. at this time last year i was riding my gravel bike in the some cold scottish forest in prep for a trip to gran canaria. and i was riding some new wheels.

earlier trip this year so yesterday i was lost on the road bike on a gravel track lost alone in lanzarote having a meltdown and shouting expletives.

an unexpected trip with treasured brethren / of which diane was not informed

late post today, i did a big bike ride with my pals here in lanzarote. i went off ahead by myself and got lost. had to cut across a gravel path. i was shouting fuck fuck fuck etc. saw an egret.

this line refers to a visit of my friends m. l. and s. l., who are brothers. and i didn’t tell my barber. i suppose ultimately she had no right to know. the image below is intented to evoque memories of diane from twin peaks. rip david lynch.

yet ah is how i start my whatsapps—it’s a bit more generous.

ah well yes. i can’t be typing hmm? at the start of all my text messages. i don’t know when i acquired the ah habit. it’s still going strong. ah thanks for this useful new information / ah that is funny / ah well isn’t that lovely / ah i suppose the funeral will be expensive / ah i just stepped on a wasp

hmm? a doubtful interjection. beginning my each phrase

i have a few noises i suppose. i must have been hmming a lot in early february. sadly i left last year’s diary at home this week. but noises come and go. i pick them up from odd places. echolalia from the television and jip like this.

a sort of deep throat sigh that i can’t explain verbally. a sympathetic groan. a palette cleanser – due to my autism, i struggle to speak if i haven’t anticipated the situation. words honk out wrongly. a long hmm gives me a little time to process maybe.

and in this case its a non-answer to the question from the previous line. i’m saying hmm but the image is of the aegean water i surely will drink.

should i drink aegean water when i hear my siren call?

still tired! heading out on a 90km hilly loop after breakfast though and excited to ride the bike.

this line continues the greek tragic allusion. should i allow myself to be led into temptation? but that’s not really what i mean. am i ready to drown for love is more what i’m getting at. (dear reader, the answer is yes.)

and if hercules in chains is free to believe in himself

i’m exhausted. in lanzarote. up at 5am. was meant to be up at 4. anyway, here now, dehydrated. unpacked. about to build up the bike. then a shower and an early night i think.

this line builds on the if from the opening line, which itself was a reference to kipling, and is intended as a mashed reference to the greek god hercules, the philosopy of rousseau (man is born free, everywhere else he is in chains) and descartes (cogito sum, i think therefore i am). i guess the idea is that the societal structure we live under necessarily limits the scope of our imaginations, and nothing can overcome that.

i have a theory that burns is to ayr as ice cube to compton/different, but the same

i suppose i still had burns on my mind from the burns night celebrations. i had been at a friend’s for a haggis supper. i had hoped i might get a chance to recite some poetry, but it didn’t seem to be the vibe.

i like that there are some elemental homophones going on in the line. burns, like fire; air, like wind; and wll ice is water. and burns are also water. i don’t think the good people of compton celebrate cube suppers yet though. maybe in two hundred years?

january is the worst month of the year. 2025 is only getting better now. stanza 2 ‘witness (1 dope)’ is live on youtube/insta/the blog from tomorrow and is already up on apple music, spotify, etc