They fuck you up, your mum and dad.
They may not mean to, but they do.
They fill you with the faults they had
And add some extra, just for you.
But they were fucked up in their turn
By fools in old-style hats and coats,
Who half the time were soppy-stern
And half at one another’s throats.
Man hands on misery to man.
It deepens like a coastal shelf.
Get out as early as you can,
And don’t have any kids yourself.
~Philip Larkin~
surpises even myself…
so I get all geared up and jump on the Pickle this morning to head for coffee…I’m riding along West Saanich listening to the sound of my trike motor thinking she’s running a little rich and I need to find someone to adjust my carb
and then it occurs to me that I hear paper flappin in the wind
“what the hell is that?” I says to myself
I catch sight of myself in my rear view mirror
it’s the invoice Kiffy pinned to my vest for all the sewing she did for me….I forgot all about it
betcha people drove by me thinking
what a strange person that is!!!
