Writing in The Quiet
If you knew me I'd be a famous man.
Maybe with nothing but at least a friend
if you say goodbye it'd give me a chance to say hello
Because maybe, if you told someone that you knew me
They could know me too
- Jonathan Clare 2011
In The Wild
Students lounging in an air of their own in a bubble a sphere of a world where the population is one but simultaneously everyone.
Lounging in unconscious content unthinking of anything but the sun and its glare and their squint to protect their eyes and occasionally brushing a hand slowly through their hair.
Lounging on sandstone created some aeon ago.
Lounging with their backs to the baroque with their backs to society with their backs to the world and tomorrow.
Lounging maybe with another but cast off he/she is like some sidekick companion barely even noticeable.
Lounging with a camera floating and glinting its pink casing away from their face and onto everything.
What a snapshot.
What a picture to misconceive.
They just snapped a picture of me,
And how beautiful it is to watch the students lounge like reptiles warming blood,
How strange it must seem (vaguely a mist in front of a cloud)
But they caught me with a click and they caught me catching them catching me
Sweetly insidious beings.
Us loungers,
We are the mundane religion
Modestly rebelling against mundane religion.
- Jonathan Clare 2011
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