the belly button –
vestige of the motorway
we rolled in here on
- Gary Hunter
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See Allreturning with the dogs one morning and looking through the sliding door I see a large white bird with something orange in its beak - my prized goldfish shouting unholies with arms nearly unhinged I a
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the air is rather silent here and I wonder what sounds the wind will make in Portugal what language it will speak and how I’ll answer will I clap for my new local musicians? strange birds playing uniq
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what wheels don’t like the pre-cut ruts of an easy journey following others inside a predictable caravan there is great comfort but the moments of life I’ll remember were wrong turns and stupid moves
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