26/12/2013 - WHERE'S THE SCHEDULE?

            Where's the schedule? Who would want to earn what an oceanographer earns? Who would scar themselves in such a way, with tumble dryer tissues and googly eyes? Why do we need to move in mad, impetuous ways? When would it even be right to give up hiding the soul behind the kitchen countertop? What's  a piece of paper when you think about it? Wherever shall you run? Why do you continue to procure these enhancements from the back of a bandwagon that doesn't even have wheels or a suppressive regime on the top? Who wants a surrey? Who is a surrey? What could partake in such illegal behaviour? Why would you want to ask the whereabouts of a when-monger? What could perfect light do to a man when he's on schedule? Why should we pack up the presents and head out for town? Who says? Why they say? When did you start paying attention to the horrors elsewhere? Why be a who? Who be a why? What is a case of good fortune? Who will be the brave one to tell me whilst I stand in this lycra cat suit? Who wants a piece? When shall you have it? How can I even wise up in these dungarees? How now? How where you when when your winning?

            Swings and roundabouts, I suppose? As of now? Did you turn to the understated porter and ask him for his trademark keys back? Could you even do such a cruel thing to a lonely old bicuspid? Is that a coaster you're resting your laurels on? Are you out of your mind and down the stairs? Which stair are you on? Can I come too or would that be totally inappropriate considering the weight of our roles in this current version of society? Society? Shall I make something of it? I suppose? I guess? But guess what? As of now? I'm hardly going to say am I? I was going to say something though, wasn't I? Can you remember? Well can you at least figure out what I might have meant? Guided lamps? Frayed surreys? Lone wolf teeth? But doesn't that sound mushy? I could be the man who switches sides, couldn't I? Would you pay me for the trick? Would you call it an action? Would anyone applaud me for my significance in hurting people's feelings? Could you let go perhaps? Couldn't you?

            This is an answer. An answer, this is. An answer of an answer in the back of a truck. An answer that lies back in that truck because it knows exactly where it's going and besides no-one is going to come slap it dead in its tracks with a walking stick. This answer is like an old man who doesn't even care anymore. This answer is that answer to some extent although it would much rather be just an answer and leave it at that. The answer is a far more fitting title but we haven't had a meeting about it yet.