Layla's Blog

Someone's On The Telephone For You

Sunday 22 February 2009


dance

and a new collab with chrx. it reminded me of a fruit salad at first.

Wednesday 18 February 2009

Peggy Holder

so bitchy
i could have sworn him in
taken his sword collection
and given her attention
but i had to grieve and and listen to her problems
all the while mine burned in my chest
and i leant more to the right, and thought i was right
but probably self righteous.
totally snapped but avoided an issue close to my bones
easily turned to the avoided if you can t see over your shoulder
pay notice to america's sensation or watch the ends of hair
i close the front door, picture the scene as it was before
and the pathway, the one im trying to escape
fighting gravity and sipping water cooler, greeting the old man again
hearing conversations and losing patience
too bored to talk, too predictable
for last night the whole world froze over, and thawed again
while i watched in birdseye view - the cars going round the track
but woke to alarm call and a whole new day
in a place where grey population had gone away

Friday 13 February 2009

and when's that party?

(six days)
i know her from photographs, in my mind she's a flat image. thats all she'll ever be
the day was dimming. the tears in his eyes were invisible to me...
so i left on an effortless train
hours of talk and the sun heads down
the conversations held by yourself, you sad old man
the bright lights of the city only burn for so long
a woman in her own right, still pushed around

i thought of bland ben, and his
'my dad says thats just the way it is'
and pictured him at the desk still
and again outside park end

then i thought of bernie - in a frog jumper drinking IPA
he could be dead now, and maybe junkie graham too
i thought of mad matt, burnt to a crisp
and skinny patsy proclaiming lambing season
and appleton starting fights
and googles in paranoid drive

remember gerry, his putrid smell
and the boy who dipped crisps in blackcurrent squash.
ray his eyes piercing in apathetic air
perverted eddie, now dead and buried
the man with the sack of drugs waiting
and the red fox at the train station.

ticker tape for my BPM
it beats a little faster
im definitely off the baseline
its just a matter of time

if you want money
you will have money
if you want a house
you will have a house
if you want a car
you will have a car
if you want to die
you will die