Thursday, 26 February 2009

short little nothings

I am naughty. I am stealing a lovely idea from stars sliding...

He posted ten titles from a random shuffle on itunes and added a short, mysterious memory associated with the title.

I have taken the first ten tunes on my ipod and used them as a little kicker for some short little nothings.


Because I want to
take your hand in mine, take you dancing in the park.

Sad dress:
the kind you want to burn in a metal bin in the garden.

Burn the witch, tell her that day is night, and five equals all the people that ever loved her, and when you are finished, don’t bury the ashes, leave them out in the rain.

The Hollow Men are the ones who walk through the city at lunchtime, with no time to stop and notice that small bird balanced on the statue’s nose.

On the side-street there is a woman dancing with no shoes on. She seems oblivious to the people watching. Her feet step on glass and bleed onto the cobbles.

Charmer. There is always one man ready to smile at all the women in the room, ready to promise them the moon, and then leave them starless.

Why I was born? I could say many reasons, but I will stick with one. Because there was no other place for me.

Red morning light, a stubble dream, a half-heard whisper.

Fire with fire, that’s what you say, as you throw my favourite books out of the window.

Santa Maria de Feira was the lady who lived opposite. She used to hang her dresses in a line between our houses, let them dry in the tango breeze.

2 comments:

deemikay said...

Hey, it's now officially a "meme". So no stealing involved at all.

Nice little short little nothings. :)

Michelle said...

Annie, I love this.

Clever associations and ideas. Beautifully evocative lines.