1985
They shared the confusion and the tension, silently moving where their legs took them. A journey on another strange path with strange people.
They sat rigidly on the train, moving where the wheels took them; the miles clicking under them with a determined and unwavering rhythm.
They'd find the water together and feel the bridges burning behind them, as real as the heat on their necks.
Picture: Nannnnnnn
may isle
CONTENTS
- Columns (60)
- Prose poems (24)
- Songs (14)
Welcome
Welcome to 'A Frample', a confused tangle of columns, prose poems and lyrics. It's not so much a blog as an online folder, lying somewhere between a drawer and the bin.
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April 1973 Dressed up but messed up, standing four deep on London Road, trying to block the visions of hospital beds and muffle the ech...
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My attic is my space, most of it given over to books, photographs and a very old but loyal computer. It is not the most accessible of plac...
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The fortress and the last stand. April 25, 2020 Dear Diary – Day 34 of self flagellation and segregation from humankind and viruskind...
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August 8, 1977 Paranoia ripples down and through the queue of painted faces. Each identical to its neighbour, right down to the etched t...
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Young Vi, shortly after her mother left. July 12, 2020 I am writing this just a few days after my mother’s death. It is a personal ...

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