here's some type of tree,

Tom Macarte'd like to take you home with us, we'd love to take you home, I don't really wanna stop the show

December 2, 2013 at 11:13am
1 note

katty August 14, 2010 at 6:03 PM

I usually go with my family to a some village specially because we like to know the people and the places. I believe the people are more helpful and kind than people of the city. 

I love to go with my couple, he usually buy viagra and we enjoy too much our privacy.

September 9, 2013 at 4:30pm
4 notes

Intensive Training

We spent ages making a scarecrow but it’s not
working really. We should just get one of those
wind-machine ones. It’s getting awful now, leading
the pigs out to the training area in the dark.
We’ve been training them for some time now to
improvise weapons. Their shooting’s mostly OK.
We really drill them hard. Them forming units
for roll-call is quite something. We call them
stuff like ‘bacon’ and ‘pork-chop’. Soon we’ll be
shipping them out, they’re nearly ready.

It’s time to address the rumours circulating that
the crows have access to a bolt-gun. We don’t want
panic on our hands. I’m personally struggling a bit,
the TV reception’s terrible so near the forest. And I’ve
managed to ruin all my shirts. A corporal ended up
beating one of the pigs with an iron bar. It was
a bit much. The crows are definitely worse though.

Mostly I just wish the weather was better. The air’s
pretty muggy with all the burning fat. We’ve got
the locals working to load the waste into
the incinerator. Going into town at the weekend,
we’re at the burger van in the layby. We need
to be back for the next delivery of slops though,
they get bigger each time.

Yesterday I shot a blackbird by mistake. I let it fall
before I could get close and notice its beak. Apparently
a mass of crows is gathering right over the road,
where it’s just been ploughed. We brought down
a few trees to make a barrage. We’re really trying to
be as efficient as possible.

Trains going past is so irritating, having to quickly
stop what we’re doing. But we’d definitely rather
people didn’t know what goes on. Last night
I woke up in meat sweats. I rushed out to turn off
my car alarm but it was a crow up a tree.

The last crow we saw, a pig shot it out of the sky.
The birds scattered at the gunshot. Then two pigs
set to work eating the body.


August 6, 2013 at 1:17pm
1 note

start coming in

continues to fall

pakistan’s even better

we’d like to address it

it makes us look

provides a clear yesterday

perfectly depression

rented three hundred sixty pancake 

don’t want any training

and intercompany international to u

when i can’t resist the

who opposes somehow socialism for 

just seems like there is a place for us

crisp and clear

deficits and

spending the weekend harman is really 
nice movies

if you live by the end of it

you have any insight into one of those 

within three months of wasn’t installed 
in portuguese

and now for the past nine days people 
love him

have conversations with compensation to 
renounce violent being

difficult including started not money

walkable distance and intensified 
individual citizens

limitations in two thousand

whose always something going on this 

uh…there’s always been testing the 
creative people coming in when his own

so many opportunities to learn to take 
part in

have that’s cool places really helpful


we have to keep the on-site seventy

and flexible work

badri dvdfab

were behind flying

meter defense

extra powers


something that’s and practically law is 
the parents and practice


dealing with different challenges such 


nelson helped them with a chance to say 

but it’s not for the past

they could continue support a party 
nominated charities

foundation incentive

people really would like to get involved 
in order to get involved which

interprets would like to get involved in 

willing to do

for good causes doesn’t apply to 
seventeen at the school

harvest up in queens park school

it’s quite rewarding experience to see 
people have been unnecessarily

clinton previously

it’s a caravan


as a few minutes

definitely it’s destiny

well people

i’ve got three times

legally except

but that’s okay

the dentist electorate

coming cpsc



- transcribed automatic captions from a corporate video

February 9, 2013 at 6:28pm
2 notes

Dulcimer Maker

For Edd Presnell

He hammers a wedge into the gap between the brace
and wood, then runs glue along the edge of the curves,
the plastic bottle loose in his grip. We’re in his workspace,

a cabin in western Watauga County that took me
three hours to drive to. He ignores my pristine shirt
and says that the wood he’s using is aged cherry

from an old log house. I watch his hands, follow
their deliberate trace as he tests the joins, gauges
the smoothness. I picture how, two weeks ago,

he boiled down those side pieces, made them bend
into shape like a Matisse torso, or a boat trying
to be Rita Hayworth. He carved the head at one end

of its three-foot neck, curved over itself like the arm
of a Georgian couch. Now he is whittling a tuning peg,
the horn handle of his knife tucked into his palm.

He shifts its incline, rounding the corners. He makes
three pegs before measuring out the frets, their precise
irregularity, and laying metal into the grooves. It takes

some hours to do all this. I sit down as he sketches
out the sound holes, and while he cuts them out I look on
like a foreman in a factory. He unwinds and stretches

the three strings, tunes them like a rhyme scheme. Finally,
laying it flat, he plays it, his fingers downward, sliding
and can-canning in time. He says the song’s ‘Aura Lee’

but it sounds more like Elvis. I stand, and he wraps it in fabric,
handing the bundle to me at the door. I wave at him as I put it
into the trunk of my car. Outside, the forest smells like Air Wick.


Here’s a poem I wrote a while ago, while I was living in NC - realised I hadn’t posted it on here. It’s a bit more traditional than my usual stuff, but kinda shows how I was dealing with culture shock etc.


January 22, 2013 at 11:01pm
1 note


When the streetlights come on it’s not a minute too soon. There’s a car radio playing but the frequencies are a little tinny for my liking. I’m sitting up this tree. I can tell that the crows and ravens are in some way keeping score. Thirty seconds or so later, the hills stop shaking. As a statistician I find both this and my own reaction to it most unusual. I’m paying careful attention to any fluctuations in temperature. Each sound that is made is immediately followed by another sound. I take off my shoes and socks and climb a little farther up the tree. A cuckoo tries to push me from my position in the branches. I’ve already made a gas mask from piss and potash, but I can still smell overripe fruit. The gorse around here is abnormally high at this point, and mostly on fire. The wind picks up and the last few leaves are evenly distributed. A short distance away there are bears of some kind gesturing at each other. I strip as much bark as I can carry and empty my pockets. I think about shouting “I can see you” a few times but decide against it. The wind and radio stop exactly two seconds before the streetlights go out, leaving everything perfectly still.


January 1, 2013 at 11:24pm
3 notes
Reblogged from recordsfromlastyear


We’re carrying huge blocks of ice tied up with laptop cables.
This is through tobacco fields, in a minute some dude rancher
in a
mustang’s gunna drive by. It maybe wasn’t such a good plan
to leave the nearest city, there’s so much light pollution
at night. Back at the house I’m boiling vegetables
with a little honey. It stopped raining a while ago
but the phone signal out here isn’t great. I wrote you
a letter on torn-out bible pages and you read it a few times,
I could see you reading it. Back into town, then. In a low voice,
I tell the child in a photo to stop crying.

This is the first post from my current project. Next one tomorrow!

November 7, 2012 at 8:22pm
1 note

Wednesday is Obama Day

After coffee I’m showering with shampoo, this is my Obama beard
and I’m making Obama pancakes. Slightly too much baking powder
and the butter and maple syrup forming a coalition. Michelle rubs
a palm on my really short hair. Talking to you you seem pretty relieved
getting tickets and a week off in January on a plane the size up from a 747.
Someone’s blasting ‘Eric B is President’ but with not enough
bass. By the afternoon I’m walking round the Obama lake with headphones,
waving a massive flag. There are only a few moorhens and some guy
fly-fishing under a birch or beech tree. It’s starting to cloud over
and get chillier, I end up putting on four more layers, my raincoat
with Obama’s face on it. I can see my daughters with pretty names
and their tongues attached to flagpoles by the cold. We start to watch
the video again, everybody’s faces like laptops drying.

October 28, 2012 at 9:51am
3 notes

Local News

Subsidies here, this is corn syrup 
on my free pancake. Again I’m sitting 

at the counter in Olde Waffle same time 
as usual. Local news on mute, 

like in the waiting room of the ER 
with you, another TV was some gory 

medical drama. We waited and watched 
how in Johnston County someone 

robbed a bank, Wells Fargo maybe, for 
small change, made off on a push-bike. 

You said something like ‘typical JoCo’. 
But it seemed nice enough, we drove 

around the days after Thanksgiving 
to enjoy the houses, remind myself 

that I’m in Carolina. That I made it 
over after the sleepless nights in 

Bedfordshire, what I thought was country 
on headphones


New poem of mine over at Should Does.

July 1, 2012 at 7:46pm
4 notes

Walk at Ayr Mount


aborigines use ancestral landmarks not themselves
for directions, the place a point, an origin. for instance,
ten miles north of ayers rock, not ‘first track on

the right’. we’re however far south of ayr mount
in a mostly piney wood, it’s 102° but feels like
107. i’m sweating a lot but we’re braving the middle

of the day heat because i only have a week and a half
left in orange county, in north carolina, with you.