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Tuesday, April 21, 2009: Treetop canopies Green struggles under dark glasses sunblocking bare earth, rain a distant dream. Monday, April 20, 2009: Possible futures I dreamed of you: a pea under my pillow, shoots curling round stubby fingers, summer lake cottages with star blankets. Breath whispers from bluebell carpets, moss curls to pigtails, shoelaces hang on overhead wires like brand new bows. Tiny kicks ripple water, lap at sleep edges the memory of unsung moments your face yet unmade. Sunday, April 19, 2009 Stuffed You plug ears with cotton nod in time to lip movements and promise moonbeams to the sun. Your kind trade player card lives with mates in white suits saying yes over and over when you really mean no. Saturday, April 18, 2009 Pilot Season Beside me, you dig your fingers into the top of my hand the skin edging white a spreading pressure stain "What's wrong?" the start of chained events unsaid as our eyes stay fixed on flickering screens overrated BBC programmes elongating the night. "Um. Uh. Um." You sputter, an engine on it's last legs, and I watch as your eyes swell to tears, another ending I wanted, the perfect finish of our year long sitcom. Friday, April 17, 2009 All I Want is Elvis Presley's First Recording of "My Happiness/That's When Your Heartaches Begin" that He Made for his Mom Four dollars found in dug pockets, the push of brooms, Christmas cards, crossed the counter a few days after high school released him from it's grip. He played the songs on repeat, the ones he knew she loved, in preparation for this day and played them again for a slanted mic, under-paid technician audience. The years ahead were barely a glint, the only fan, his mum and this record, his gift, the only thing she wanted, the thing that would drive collectors to auctions & garage sales a priceless thing, happiness and heartache in its grooves, a love, a dedication, a simple time before the madness began. Thursday, April 16, 2009 Orange Gracing favourite hockey team jerseys, Halloween cookies, morning juice drinks, you're the poster boy of nutrition, sports sites and spas. We love/ hate you our joy leaking from pores as you magic tan your way through Essex and back. The out of favour flavour, you stare blue and green-wards dreaming of 70s polyesters and retro wall patterns.