I Guess Where You’re From

At the railway station, a few metres in front of a café, I held up a piece of cardboard torn from a box, upon which I had written in black ink marker-pen:

“I BET I CAN GUESS WHERE YOU’RE FROM WITHOUT HEARING YOU SPEAK“

Claude looked like he had time to kill, waiting for a train connection. I watched, as he sauntered towards me, looking thoughtful. All in one motion, placing his briefcase onto the ground, clasped between his ankles, he pointed at the sign with his index finger, then pointed to himself.

I looked at him for a few seconds, with a blank expression on my face. “Belgian.” I said, forming an innocent smile.

Claude jerked backwards, as if a fairytale ogre had appeared behind him and given the collar of his coat a sharp tug.

Dog-Speak

I once knew a woman
alas, no more

(I mean, alas no more do I know, her
Not ‘no more’ in the sense of her being dead)
(Although she may be, for all I know
But I very much hope not, obviously)

I once knew a woman
alas no more
Probably still very much alive

A seemingly sane woman
by most available
measurable psychiatric standards
pertaining to mental health

♀

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Old Actors

How did everyone get so old?
I can’t believe the Picard series three.
I kept wanting to yell at the fumbling Patrick Stewart to speak up!
I couldn’t hear him because his voice was so weak.

And what happened to Joaquin Phoenix?
How did he get so old all of a sudden?
Wasn’t he young, until recently?
Just how old is he?

Much of the Time

Much of the time, this is how I look
This is not a moment caught in time
Not my react, told it’s my turn to cook
This is me, appearance far from fine

Illness creates this expression face
With eyes open, gapes large my mouth too
Mouth shuts, normal, nothing out of place
When I blink or sleep all the night through

Anyone Know?

This Sunday morning
Do I hear a lark sing
Heralding spring?
I really don’t know
It could be a crow
For all I know

The first lark of spring
Is that a thing?
Or is it the cuckoo
I really don’t know
It could be an emu
For all I know

Support Network for Introverts and Over-Thinkers

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Seriously, after a big build-up at home, lots of self-coaxing, lying to myself in the mirror, and pumping myself up with outlandish self-talk, I garner enough courage to attend the inaugural meeting of the very first, official, Support Network for Introverts and Over-Thinkers. Or, “SNIOT”, for short.
.
I’m bang-on a strategic ten minutes late and guess what? No one else is here aside from the Cleaner, head down, vacuuming the carpet in small figure-of-eight patterns.

Activism

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Friends Yukio and Shioli, this weekend plan to enact their ‘Free the Fish’ pact, by taking their families’ pet fishes down to Sumida River for release.

1. Humanity

Soolking and Myriam, Kabyle people of Kabylia. As well as feeding me and preparing a bed for a night, Myriam taught me some words in the Berber language, in case you need it on your journey, she said.
.

Marcel’s Last Day in Marseille

Of the options available
late, early or punctual
I am usually late

Toward the port
I stride through
Old Marseille

I see him there
in familiar dark grey
suit made from linen

Sat outside his favourite café
Le Coq Bleu
a small coffee cup and saucer
sits on the table
newspaper is open
leg crossed over other

Soolking and Myriam, Kabyle people of Kabylia. As well as feeding me and preparing a bed for a night, Myriam taught me some words in the Berber language, in case you need it on your journey, she said..

Soolking and Myriam, Kabyle people of Kabylia. As well as feeding me and preparing a bed for a night, Myriam taught me some words in the Berber language, in case you need it on your journey, she said.
.