This one came to me as I was walking along the unending streets talking to myself again about old excuses...
And here’s an old cup for you full of the rustic blues of September and a dusty excuse to be used over and over again; and this is for Christmas and that is for you, the ten slaves of doom in an endless yard of dust for the satisfaction to fulfil.
And then here to return to rust when the seven paths of light meet the unending stream we will know, but until then we will eat our chicken soup and chant the name of our ghost while the wealthy pay someone to do it for them.
There are many ways to travel backwards and all of them downhill, but if you really want to make an omelette then start gathering eggs for there is no better time than now; but if you find yourself in the machine shops making custard, then pray hard.
If there are no minutes left to fulfil all the heavenly glory how many minutes do we need to figure this out? Answers please on an old postcard and send to the ministry of hope and return using any stamp you can find to post it there.
Which reminds me: when I was very young and small my mother sent me to the shop to buy stamps so she could post her letters. I was so pleased to buy 50 stamps in a packet for her instead of the 4 she sent me for. Little did I know that they were all used stamps for putting in a scrap book, but what did I know of stamps and the system of postage?
Anyway, after I had been sent back to the shop for some real ones, the packet was given to me and this is when I began my used stamp collection. It’s funny how things begin.
I sold my used stamp collection years later for a lot of money and bought 10 slaves and immediately gave them their freedom; they gathered around in a group for a while discussing something, and afterwards went and sat on the end of the shelf; and now every time I think of those stamps I also think of the 10 slaves down the shelf who are probably still there blowing up balloons and making jokes to pass the time...
Images from Pixabay
