The man in front of me gets the divider thing and places it on the conveyor belt between our groceries. Mine: hummus, baby corn, mange tout, red pepper, sunflower seeds, mints. His: bread, sliced cheese, ham, toothpaste, eggs (all Tescos non-branded varieties). Mine: lunch for the next couple of days so I can write through lunch. His: shopping for the week, splashing out on giro day. In his hand is a tiny piece of paper, not much largers than a postage stamp with tiny biro'd numbers on it. He gestures towards his economy value pile and tells me that those eggs are 88p this week, he inspects his tiny list. They were only 84p last week. Credit crunch he tells me, nodding slowly. Fuel prices, raises eyebrows. Hope I've got enough. His entire basket comes to £3.08. Hands the cashier exact change.  

gyno patients waiting room

a cliché, the sick and

zombie like wounded all these

women feeling pain. I

wonder how many of them have

been sliced lasered stitched

examined probed scanned groped

stared at drugged touched cut

+ winched open like I have?

I wonder why the

lady opposite cries and shakes her

head?

army Barbie

who I met only once

who ran away flew

away married away

my tiny glass doll

covered in moss

reinforced by steel

+ disfigurement

junkie princess

vagabond with a baby

in tow + a pimp           

+ a needle + a rattle

gold plated child

+ a source of

hate, the closest the

furthest + a waste

Russian dancing marionette

oh you'll break

our daddy's heart with

your deep dark eyes

the germ infested wild

child baring her

teeth behind

matted hair + scabbed lips

+ my baby my

saviour my salvation don't

let her fuck you

up you'll never let me down

breathing

diary

reading

talking to myself

old photos

flosty griter baths

cuddles

Friends videos

long talks with my best friend

dancing like a marionette

loud music

feminist texts

writing

making stuff

letters

zines

incense

walking

painting my toenails

yoga

walking barefoot

giving stuff to charity

today she driften, just like she was told - only with £1 coin in the back pocket of the indigo skinnies because consumption + purpose had not quite been exorcised - turning right instead of left + left parallel to the usual right she found herself in Asian money land + turning left again she's drawn towards cymbals tambas chanting singing along the window frames:

hare krishna hare rama

+ a statue + a hundred happy church-goers + she knows the hypnotique quality hertbeat goraning from the centre essense of the music that makes her want to stop + stare + peer + dance + chant + believe just like they do - but she walks on + such is the nature of the drift...

1. Get enough food to eat, and eat it

2. Find a place to sleep where it is quiet, and sleep there

3. Reduce intellectual + emotional noise until you arrive at the silence of yourself, and listen to it

- Brautigan

4. Stretch till your muscles ache, then stretch some more

5. Breathe in for as long as you can, hold it, now breathe out till your lungs are empty

6. Document your life to achieve immortality

7. Make stuff you could have bought

8. Lie in the grass

9. When you're alone - dance. When you're surrounded by people - dance more

10. Don't wear shoes

beauty fragrancy

delicacy

-sorry sorry sorriso-

foreign deign

and no shame

bitter sicker pulls a face

not a good taste

tiny prick and bursts