[NetBehaviour] Nets and a bandwagon
mclennanfilm at gmail.com
Tue May 11 12:48:25 CEST 2021
How L shed tears and Bron did not cry
The song to accompany this
Text; you may listen and read
At the same instant for the full meaning or feeling rather.
So what is it?
B strode up to the drawing.
Well it’s a diagram of my feelings.
My stomach spewed it up so to speak -
Out of my memory -
All my past and future in
One place - neat hey?
Oh well done old chap - another great art work for
History no doubt.
Ha ha it’s not thaaat good -
He chortled and snatched the paper from the desk and
Tossed it unceremoniously
Into a heap of drawings and
Paintings in the corner
Of the room.
They were in the top floor of
The house, more like a small palace. Outside were
Ornate gardens sunken ponds and rather neat lawns with shrubs beyond
Which were great poplars
And massive conifers lost
In a purplish haze of smoke.
The low sun created a dark
Aura over the distant horizon. A twite hopped along a branch just outside
The mullioned window and
B scratched at a red weal
On her neck. The recent
Minor wound was healing
But was going to leave
A scar. Scimitar or similar,
She punned to herself her
Lips mouthing the words silently.
Is it going to be a chariot?
She asked L who was now
Fiddling with a sable brush.
He dabbed a bit of crimson
Lake onto an oak panel.
It will skim across lakes and
Convert into a sledge when
Crossing flat land. It shall
Float up to and not beyond
A height of twelve good yards. I think it’s a definite
Goer. This time I think I
Have invented a good machine.
It shall also double as a beehive and a shed for the
Donkeys and smaller horses. It can just sit in the
Outer yard, by the big barn when not in use.
It will have two special control rooms. And a large
Raised platform for viewing
And generally taking air or
Playing games or just sitting and thinking. It will have several capacious
Pouches for goods and
Will also host my new idea
For navigation - wait for it!
B stopped rubbing her scar -
Go on, what the ‘ell is it? Tell
Us will tha! Ga on!
Ha ha, it’s a flippin triumph.
A sack containing shiny things that glow a dull orange. Black silica sand that seems inert but doth
Hold all knowledge of numbers each number, a tiny code of an idea. Top math drives it’s desires!
All our hope will last forever
Caught, even trapped in there like tiny doors each one a sepulchre a black
Hole a friable and versatile
Soil. It will just kill the opposition ha ha.
Jesus wept and Hell’s Bells.
But will it produce music?
More than music mate -
Leonardo spun 365 degrees making his frilly shirt balloon - it will keep
A record of your friends addresses and their names.
Plus it will manage to tell
You the weather - and allow
You to write things in a new way.
Tears fell from his eyes -
It’s a big mistake..
Now I regret everything...
I realise Tis the devil in the codex...
The best I can conjure from my cerebrum today. I love them both but they make mistakes too.
Sent from my spyphone
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