Something I wrote last year
I write words
Sometimes they elude me
They trundle down the black hole
Of my thoughts
Sometimes I can patch them together In a semi-coherent loop
Loop the loop
Sing a song of sixpence…
Wait, this isn’t a nursery rhyme
Why do rhymes rhyme
Language is a weird beast
It lets you feast on the thoughts
And then store them away
For posterity’s sake
Take the cake and eat it too
Have my words
Have your words
Send them spiralling out
To the world
And then peruse them
Throw them out
And start again
⁃ M. Withey 2020
Late the next morning and I was sitting in the hotel restaurant with Bianca and David, Chuck and Pierre, resting after gorging ourselves on the breakfast buffet. Yes, I did say Pierre was there. Come on, it’s not like I could avoid him, right? Though after the previous night it would’ve been some relief, but Bianca had insisted I come and eat breakfast with her. I still hadn’t managed to talk to Pat about any of this, either. For some reason he wasn’t up early today…or perhaps that was by design.
Continue reading ““Sleepy Perth.” (Bed Hair – Thirteen)”
Pierre is really, really good at fooling the public that he’s happy. That everything is fine in his life and he’s content and enjoying the moments with the band. But, tonight…everyone, and I mean everyone, got to see the real face of Pierre Charles Bouvier.
Continue reading ““We should be.” (Bed Hair – Eleven)”
School holidays. Something safe to write about. As a relief teacher holidays are my time to refresh myself. To take a breather. I guess it helps me to recalibrate. These holidays are going to be quite a bit different and will encroach into term time, so, I won’t be available to relieve any classes. I’m still not sure how I feel about it all. It seems so sudden… Simple Plan, here, in Perth. Fools Rush In, supporting them on their national tour. I still can’t get my head around it.
Pierre. I don’t have words.
The others, it’s great to see them…
What am I going to tell Bianca and Mark and the rest of the guys? How do you tell them about a past that is hard for me to even think about?
~~~~~~~~~~ Continue reading ““Three sizes too big.” (Bed Hair – Ten)”
Pierre stood quite still not sure what he was seeing. He knew what he was looking at. Whom he was seeing. But, he didn’t know if he wanted to believe it.
Chuck looked over at him, mouthing, “You okay, Pierre?”
Shaking his head, Pierre took a step back and turned to leave. Continue reading “Bed Hair – Nine”
“Look at these shirts, Marly!” Bianca said, at the top of her lungs. I wriggled the tip of my finger in my ear, making a face at her. She laughed, and said, “I wasn’t that loud.”
Smiling, I said, “Sure…my ears are bleeding.”
Continue reading ““What are you doing here?” (Bed Hair – Eight)”
Los Angeles, CA
Pierre sat with Chuck’s itinerary in his hands. He dragged his fingers through his hair as he tried to sort through the emotions that were fighting for his attention. The whole thing was getting worse as his friend handed him the information for the tour. The only good thing, really, was the support band. Fools Rush In had a refreshing sound; he had several of their tracks on his iPod on repeat of late.
Continue reading ““I’m Sad.” (Bed Hair – Five)”