26 May

Combat Wombat

I’m here. It’s Thursday the guy tells me, start of the weekend. I’m broke but a regular so they let me in half price. Friends too. Connections, dedication. Haven’t had any sleep 24 hours, 30. I missed yesterday’s post a single slip-up in the best chunk of a year of posts and I feel gritty. Not much change jangling in my pockets, not much electricity, not much to be heard over the throb of a wheelchair-bound MC.

People say this is a fake form, they say it ain’t even music. I’ve done Beethoven, I’ve done house and techno and rock and vairous unclassifiable but I’ve never seen anyone move to anything like. I’ve never seen such cameraderie, I’ve never felt the throb of the 21st century like have in here. So to those who’d disrespect the tribal beat of a finally and (almost) united human race I say here’s the middle and the index served.

Oh and Dylan turned 70 the other day. Goodnight.


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