And the shepherds climbed up onto the fell top, the common, whereupon they looked up and gazed at the string of stars, planets - Jupiter, Mars, Venus the brightest, Saturn stretched out like a daisy chain behind which the milky froth of galaxies and this and that the actual ceiling of the universe. No sheep - long gone wandered off across the mountains. Now only the dusty shadow of days once abundant with clippers, sheaves, bales, twine, horse blankets, red tractors with levers and muddy wheels, and dirt tracks across fields full of green rows and poplars, birch and solitary ash mid-field - for decoration and love of landscape left by farmers for dreaming and sitting under - and climbing. Now the tenement, the dog-shit of urban sprawl and fat arses not splayed across saddles but squeezed into fake orange 'restaurants' selling chum meat dressed up for the masses in bread buns like dry sawdust crammed into the mouths of mannequins lost in blind panic of dreams....
And here be my drawings https://www.instagram.com/reel/DGRNucOstAZ/?igsh=MWpkMTN1cWU1NmJ6Ng==
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