Before the moon's horizon past kebab shop of nocturnal function, extended hedges cobweb mesh does not divert my feet from industry, the backstreet engineering wasteland, Zonk! Hum edited, left behind. Moving motors the other way, I get to their station. Roll a smoke beneath branching periscope Are you putting the kettle on? More motors. Surely it's ready. Save message again. Magic numbers. But the other "wee machine isn't working till one" what the hell is behind all that corrugated iron? Too suspect picket fence and now, crossing to the bottom of Residence Road Fuckin Cobwebs I'm probably outside your buildin' (00:08)
Dunno whether to hit the buzzer (00:15)
Inbox: Yes, C'mon now! (00:16)
Past the officer jock with his high-school crazy - pavements hiss - oh i popped a snail - legs crane animated frame girlfriend in pink BOOts. I got a Snickers duo - a treat to eat while going back through part stream to zonk hum factory suburb - never mind irradiated food what about irradiated me. I slip to avoid the cobweb and further through nonsense-time two drunk boys smashed a bottle there. We thought well tonight. I'm going past Wyse Byse Moloch belly by Maundy Gregory - chocolate car will guard vision again. There. I didn't miss my turnin. Nothing happens. An old ladies duplo teapot lit, gingercat. A car squeaks off angled roof mission hall. Two lads say something in Yell. One walked speed swinging, his bars out and a flag flap of a shadow behind. I turn into a powerful warlock but he wasn't going to steal my phone anyway. Now I'm home to top up electric and by quiet read. Send this under cushion and not sponsor spivs of Special Brew. It'd have not been funny if I'd forgotten key.
Home now. Wrote better poem but it won't send (02:16)