coffee won't wake me up

and why does coffee breath never taste anything like coffee?

things i have noticed since i last wrote.

curled up cigarettes in a window box in Holloway.

a woman inpatient in a pink towelling dressing gown getting some fresh air outside King's College Hospital with a cigarette.

Philosophia soaps by Nesti Dante. lovely.

architectural triumph that is the Peckham Burger King. like a safe little spaceship nest. not that i've ever been in, though.

Yesterday's Metro:

Mr Cheung was wearing black clothes

When he emerged from a

shadow on an unlit road

and there were poems scrawled on scraps of paper lying damply in puddles on the pavement in Camberwell

...i tried to express something like this once. i felt it very strongly when i watched someone i like very much eat a mince pie:

His head was bent, his two eyes engaged on a meticulous observation of the activities of his knife and fork as they dissected between them a fried haddock. Suddenly disengaging his right hand, he dipped in his waistcoat and put two half-crowns on the tablecloth.

[...]

The redness of his fingers as he handed out his coins, his occupation with feeding for the nourishment of his body, these were two things that revealed for an instant his equal humanity.

I left him there

At-Swim-Two-Birds by Flann O'Brien

(❤)

and

❤

'Fulcrum' by David Morley (Poems on the Underground)

While I talk and the flies buzz,
a seagull catches a fish at the mouth of the Amazon,
a tree falls in the Adirondack wilderness,
a man sneezes in Germany,
a horse dies in Tattany, and twins are born in France.
What does that mean? Does the contemporaneity
of these events with one another,
and with a million others as disjointed
form a rational bond between them,
and write them into anything
that resembles for us a world?