I conceived in art college at the age of 20, near the end of term.
You snipe so steady, you snub so snide, so rip and ready to diminish and deride.
Bows and flows of angel hair and ice cream castles in the air and feather canyons everywhere, I've looked at clouds that way.
Some turn to Jesus and some turn to heroin.
They used to laugh at me when I refused to ride on all those double decker buses, all because there was no driver on the top.
My family could only afford to get me the box of eight Crayola crayons, but I craved the one with all 24 colours. I wanted magenta and turquoise and silver and gold.