I raised myself out of bed with several jet engines attached to arms and legs. I found a map of town on the top of my head and followed it. I had the briefest of times as captain on the bridge of the Queen Boadicca and then sailed serenely into a peopled evening. At the end of the day (and the year!) I had to be peeled of a laughing wall.
After taking all the snakes out of my hair I walked the plank to the shops, where I met my friend the water nymph, and came back with a horse’s mane. I pulled an ancient city from my wife’s chest while eating lunch. Later I found time to dance in pink paint before going to the dark hall - the music reminded me of highwaymen and dwarves stood on tall ladders.
I went visiting in the morning, earlier than usual and accompanied by my friend the owl king. After staying in the warm for a few hours I returned to the cold Anglo-Saxon camp where the hunting weapons were being polished. I ascended like an archangel in the dark afternoon and then floated down like a feather into my nightly wine cup.
I started the day by raising my arm like the dead warrior in Guernica. I then dressed myself in chocolate wrappers and squeezed between chinks in the wall. I tried to get back into my studio (which had been vacationing in the South of France) but the clock didn’t like it. At the end of the day my dinner was delivered by Viking longboat.
Another day away from home - we had to trek across the plastic land where plastic people lay with arms outstretched in a perpetual embrace - we then played with the baby and ate miscellaneous parts from a model kit. I dreamed of raising the dead while television screens duelled at a multitude of false dawns. I was worried by the amount of weight Poppy has gained.
June discovered that she had broken her hand. We were both standing in bags of wet cement at the time. I had to pull a fish out of my pocket and make a phone call. It was a quiet day with the flags on the roof bringing up a family of refugees and the cardboard version of me surreptitiously making notes on a piece of paper in his pocket.
I went to see Father Christmas. I rose early with dove wings and visions of snow hopping kangaroos. However, it was mid morning before I managed to undo the chains from the rock I was shackled to. I then took the long journey where old trees fell to the dead house gardens where my wife and I had long past. I dug up as many memories as possible.