modern life is rubbish

 

 

 

 

 touch to start

 my smoky breast fillets

i am so confused

but 

in a safe self place

crossing paths

 

and why don't you call home

touchez

tram lines

and

modern life

rubbish

chasing down 

three rabbit holes

 

 

 

 

 

ghost rider

 

 

 

 

hooray for the ghost rider

riddled in strange dreads

he dreams

entranced 

of empty milk cartons 

and leaning towers of pizza

 

 

 

reflections

 

 

alone

 

a dark passage

takes me

to the light

 

reflections

of a city

 

carnival of souls

and this carnival of souls

passes beneath the lights

rising

and falling

as they skate on such thin ice

a place of reflection

endlessly

spinning

a procession of

the dead

and the live 

 who shift shape

and

cling to the shadows

footsteps

dancing

to

a circle

of light

 

 

prime cut

A casual lunch with my good friend Terry invariably results in high spirits and an extended exploration of the key watering-holes of Birmingham.

We start with a swift pint in the Old Contemptibles before a short march across the Great Charles Street footbridge to the Jewellery Quarter.  The joys of Anderson's Bar and Grill await our pleasure in the cellars beneath Mary Ann Street.  Their 'Nose to Tail' beef special comes highly recommended.

We retrace our steps to the railway arches on Livery Street and a visit to the Indian Brewery. A schooner or two of one of their darker brews goes down well. Onward once more to our final stop, the legendary Wellington, home to Birmingham's finest real ale emporium.

Job done, we go our separate ways into the dark rain-soaked streets of the city.