Inside the Mind of Alan Fletcher

Eyes open. I’m still here. In every way.
Good thing. Bad thing. Something? Perhaps something.

Thirty hours. Thirty-two? Still awake.

The table. Unstable. Instable? Unstable.
Date. 10th. No. 12th. I woke up on the 10th.
The table. That one. Not mine. Mine’s
Precariously perched on the precipice of the
Planet. Dickhead.

The drawings. Sketches? They’re good.
I like them. They’re really good. I love them.
I quite like them. I think. I think?
Ha, semantic manipulation! I think.

Woke up. A while ago. A while ago now.
Mused on the possible mathematical-
Scientific-philosophical-societal applications for
My formulaic expression of the
Equilibrium of the universe. Tea cup is dirty.
“That is fucking disgusting.” With a smile.

Left flat. Bus. Town. People.
Sad people. Talking. Talk. Talk.
Endless fucking talking.

“Someone was sitting there.”
“Yeah mate – me.”
Bravado. Imagined. Reality. “Soz.”

Now. Table. Arm. Pen. Paper.
Dr Pepper. Coke. Scarf. Pen. Trademark.
Pen. Paper. Table. Boot. Pen. Chair.
Pen. Sofa. Pen. Pen.

Pen. Pen. [Kiss].

Pen. Pen. Pen. Pen. Pen.


Two-Five-One. Follower. Follow ‘er.

Pen. Red. Eyes. Red. Pen.


About DickensianJack

Born in Wolverhampton in November '93, moved to Huddersfield in September 2012. Studying at the University of Huddersfield. In love with the town - simple as that. As for the blog itself, I've been doing bits and pieces of writing (with varying quality) for a few years. A friend suggested I start a blog to share my work. Most of the stuff on here is poems, but there's other work interspersed on the page. Feel free to leave any comments on my work. Twitter: @DickensianJack (Jack Dickens) Facebook: Cheers, enjoy.
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