
this is the little town I live in.
sometimes, the bridge to my right,
[you can't see it]
is raised and lots-and-lots of boats go in-and-out.
as you can see,
lots of pubs,
a bakery with cornish pasties
[mmmmmm]
a few chippies
and more pubs.
the boys down here like their cider
and the girls like the occasional gossip.
mostly old sea folk
which keeps things quirky.
did I ever tell you the story about how I showed up here,
hungry, poor and scared from Ethiopia…
and a few months later had a boat of my own?
Absurdity.
It seems to me you are doing well by your tatto, creating many memories for future nostalgias. Here’s hoping the shaking man will be much of anything but a depressing lingering thought. But breakdowns can be good, they let us rebuild. Hope you’re good.