I’ve been reading
so many different
things – lots of books
on a great range of topics
fiction,
non-fiction
poetry
journalism

been listening to lots of
reggae – and lots of music (as I
always do) but deep dives in
different directions

(true confession: the great
landfill that is Kiwi Reggae
all but ruined the genre
for me – feeling forced to
wade through the murky
waters of all that faux-political,
faux-feelgood fucking-nonsense
killed the actual good vibes
of the great music that I loved
a lot some 15-20 years ago)

catching up on some of the
TV shows I started a while
ago and then shelved for a
bit

and movies too – always all sorts
of junk, classics, cult favourites
and far too many unauthorised
music bio/doco-things…

down rabbit holes with
friends online

we share war-stories of when
we wore these stories for the
first time – our various
obsessions all coming back
into vogue – or coming back
regardless of fashion

for what is fashion – anymore?
I’ve had a bandana tied around
my head every day since they
locked up this town and your
town too

and it turns out I really
like washing my
hands – the smell, the feel
the process, such pleasure

so simple
so fucking simple

when I want to dream
big I drift off over
an instant coffee

imagining we might
learn something, we might
retain the empathy we’re
telling people we’ve located

our egos back on the shelves
like the TV shows we’ll
no longer need for passing
the time