Infinity Station
Tuesday 14th December 2010 10:00 pm
We would like to advise customers that all lines will eventually converge,
This is a product of the linear nature of time and is only to be expected.
Time works differently here,
It passes with a metal buzz that you only hear,
If you listen for it.
Stop thinking for a minute and it was never there.
We all stop thinking eventually.
Stand well back from the platform edge,
An unfortunate sexual connotation will soon be passing.
The thick banded lines of the tracks,
Throb ecstatically with antici-
Diddly-dum diddly-dum diddly-
-pation.
Phallic thankfulness writ large upon the face of the cliched city gent,
All change please.
We would remind customers that if they leave their emotional baggage unattended,
Then it may be blown up by the insecurity services.
I love my neurosis.
They flicker like the tick of litter scudding across the platform.
Fat fucker,
Ugly bugger,
Sick stinking utter failure.
Never loved,
Never loveable.
Cold clay corpse man.
A mantra of the bleak unthinking worry,
That lies at the pit of my soul,
But which flys off in a moment,
Whipped away into the forgetful beyond,
Like yesterdays chip paper.
We would like to apologise to customers for the delay of their dreams,
We would like to advise them that the delay is only temporary,
We would like to,
But we can't,
It seems that we have had a fall of the wrong kind of lives on the line.
We would like to apologise.
This is a product of the linear nature of time and is only to be expected.
Time works differently here,
It passes with a metal buzz that you only hear,
If you listen for it.
Stop thinking for a minute and it was never there.
We all stop thinking eventually.
Stand well back from the platform edge,
An unfortunate sexual connotation will soon be passing.
The thick banded lines of the tracks,
Throb ecstatically with antici-
Diddly-dum diddly-dum diddly-
-pation.
Phallic thankfulness writ large upon the face of the cliched city gent,
All change please.
We would remind customers that if they leave their emotional baggage unattended,
Then it may be blown up by the insecurity services.
I love my neurosis.
They flicker like the tick of litter scudding across the platform.
Fat fucker,
Ugly bugger,
Sick stinking utter failure.
Never loved,
Never loveable.
Cold clay corpse man.
A mantra of the bleak unthinking worry,
That lies at the pit of my soul,
But which flys off in a moment,
Whipped away into the forgetful beyond,
Like yesterdays chip paper.
We would like to apologise to customers for the delay of their dreams,
We would like to advise them that the delay is only temporary,
We would like to,
But we can't,
It seems that we have had a fall of the wrong kind of lives on the line.
We would like to apologise.
Ian Hayles
Mon 25th Apr 2011 13:27
Thanks to all for your lovely comments... i do think that an audio recording of this might be in order... It didn't half come to life at the Tudor... thanks for all my enthusiastic bing bongers (You'll know if you were there)