Trev Teasdel
Trev's rock poetry, flashing fictions, surreal stories and poetic lyrics and photographs.
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Saturday, 22 October 2016
Zombie Halt
1964, Kings Cross Station, two lonely buskers, sharing three well used chords and a plectrum and a Existential philosopher - Hey-Dig -Her. The age of steam was being replaced by the age of R & B and Free Love was on tap at any bar. In those days, people wore their novels like clothes, you could indeed read them like a book, line for line, episode for episode. The buskers looked like trains with their followers in carriages that rode behind them. Sex was all over the place and in your face but nobody noticed, they were busy being their own novels. The 1960's was a movie, written by a Pop Art aristrocrat made homeless in his own mind. Hey-Dig-Her philosophised when on the job - it helped to relax his syllogisms. It was his mission to invent the world but he failed miserably. Nothing really made sense but then it was never meant to. Just then, the two buskers hit on some chords and a freelance organist joined in. The lyrics fell out of a book on phenomenology, but were simplified for alienated rail users. It was business as usual at Zombie Halt and nobody knew where anybody was.....
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