Santa Cruz de Tenerife
pap pap pap paP PAP PAP PAPPAPPAP PAp pap pap A stern man along the shore grim.
Grown-up keepy-up pap pap pap. Ball to toe ball to toe it doesnt miss or fly askew
We squint back up on our elbows planted in the sand. In the terrific heat too hot to talk.
Thats clever. I think.
A fly. Buzz
It is, isn't it. Thinks The Bloke
Someone draws a cargo ship on the horizon but forgets to colour him in.
ap pap paP PAP PAP PAP pap pa The man is back.
Right foot right foot right foot left foot left foot right foot
Mumble. Babble rhubarb rhubarb murmurs the beach
Laugh splash. Screech. A plane, zoom. Bored
appap pap pAP PAP PAP Foot Left Foot RIGHT FOOT The man is back The Bloke sits up.
Thats clever he says. It is isnt it.
'He hasnt dropped it yet how many do you think he's done let's count let's work it out what's his story shall we come back next week and
see if he's still here let's make up a story the person who makes up the best story about the man with the ball papap
I just can't imagine
I fume petulant in the heat. Sulky. I think I've failed a test.
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