we touched the sky

with suffered silos:

feigned gates on which my love might hang 

scabbed wreaths creaking in idle winds

peppered, long-feln

to keep the flies off 

to keep some facsimile of youth intact

another field-dressed carcass

only good for sausage

by the watershed.

ground is a funny word, isn't it? 

rough-hewn earths and

torn up turfs and

a finer...

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Before the after

I used to be bald

but now I'm shorn

like being dead

not being unborn

 I used to be young

but now I'm not old

like being informed

not being untold

 I used to be slight

but now I'm substantial

like being skint

then becoming financial. ........................

words and foto Tommy Carroll 

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I was kind of hoping,
That you would come along,
Like the answer to a prayer,
And the music to a song.

Like the kind of thing that happens,
At a special place and time,
That will change our lives forever,
Like a fantasy of mine.

The fantasy was there before,
I ever knew your name,
And now that I have found you,
We will never be the same.

So, pardon, if I look at you,
Forgive me ...

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