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Kidcobbler Rides Again
Saturday, 5 November 2022
LOST LANGUAGE
A tree; bent with age at the middle, doilies of green leaves fussing along its branches, home to strange hieroglyphs and lost language.
I stand; bent with age at the middle, listening to a conversation I know I can never understand.
It is enough that it makes me stop and smile.
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WAITING FOR A MORNING RESCUE
THEY ONCE TOLD ME
LOST LANGUAGE
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About Me
Kidcobbler
Spent nine months dreaming on my back. Opened up new horizons, if only horizontal. Woke up disabled, with a Blue Badge and bed hair. Walk with a limp and a stick. Cue the double entendré and the stick. Saving money on shoes. Spending it on thoughts. Overdrawn at the creative bank. Loan facility disabled. The irony! Stronger through weakness. Weaker through slogans. New journeys to be taken. Pop along. I'm off my back. I'm back.
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