‘Temporary Random Habitual Day’ by Andrew Bradford

London Town dawned early that day so we stood around and watched our bodies melt

The most notorious thing a man can ever do is refuse to do anything at all

It was back in Psychedelic Spring, but they swore it was summer

So she always gravitated towards danger

When they reached the City of the Night, all was bright and pristine; it blinded them

My relation to the man you are contending with is not as close as you might pretend it once was

Been getting awfully bored with life as we now perceive it so only a matter of time before I pack a bag and split it all

It was a quick print job, and the work was shoddy as hell; everything was badly misspelledddddd

He’d get drunk and scream he was afire; was a horrible noise that time when he actually spontaneously combusted

Life was miserable back in those days; life now is only horribly distressing on most days

I calculate it will require exactly twenty million more years before all that is said is finally understood

Reported around the world once; now I just sit and stare at my face in a mirror; see the future before I see the past again

Last road down is a dead one; not a dead end, just dead

If he wasn’t so attached to his own pain, he might be able to share it with some other poor fuck

Copyright 2015 by Andrew Bradford. All rights belong to the author and material may not be copied without the author’s express permission.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *