to dust

It's a symphony
Played on strings of dust
A-choo, a-choo
We all fell down
God bless

then,
'Play it again Sam'

the sky at night

On a big ship far away
Sailing on in to eternity
The stars will fall beneath your feet
You better wear some shoes

Rhymes (just because)

I like the city and I like trees
I love wellness and don't mind disease
Now I think I'm gonna sneeze
Oh, it happens all the time

My mother told me that it was all rot
She said, Mick give it another shot
No, you don't know what you got until you know what you got
There's wilderness in the plains

When the moon shines it reflects the sun
But we all know that moonshine's the one
It's good to be a hick in these modern times

You picked a fight and she picked her nose
Now the blood starts to drip onto my clothes
Just more redness upon white

...unfinished...

Near

Hey, hey, hey the end is near
Cries a man or a woman
But the end has always been nigh
Even a million years away is near when you think about the universe
Infinity makes it all small

I suppose I mean don't worry about it

Or at least that isn't significant

He's strange
He's the strangest stranger
What kinda guy is born in a manger?

alright

It's very sad
A sad, sad situation
The saddest I know,

I've known sadder,

Don't get me wrong,

But it's very very sad

God story

It had been over a year since I had seen it at the BFI on the Southbank and I had mostly forgotten about it, but it came back to me in a dream, that line from that film I saw; Diary of a Country Priest, All Is Grace.

escapade

The breeze from outside cools my feet
Which wear five day worn socks
In a thick shoe

She sheds a tear
But do not say a word,
It stings their broken rib

You're very brave,
A mother might say, or a grandmother
Or subsequently a lover

I am taking her to the museum
by the sea
Where it stands in all its glory
Proud, being the world's largest

and then,

Just like a snowflake
says the alien
As the diamond melts
In her small infant hand.

Children come, Children go

I walk to school
The path coldly glitters
Jack Frost has been out
Leaving his white shadow
In the cold
Which makes my ears burn,
(Dizzy)
And drunk on childhood
I stumble into a flower
Covered in fine frost
With ever so delicate a trace;
A fingerprint in ice on petal

The flower, not a rose,
Fore it should not be a rose,
I suppose was the same colour as her varnish,
When she pressed it,
A light green

But now, here, drunk on beer
It reminds me of you
It was your fingertip
And, with the songs I now know,
The colour of your colour,
... and
However many ___s later
It turns pale blue in the snow.

The old art critic

The old art critic
to me
There's no beauty
it's horseshit
There's no ugly
it's pixiedust

Swindles

we snort twenty pound notes up
through rolled up fifties
and laugh at those who get caught
and subsequently punished
for swindling the system
punished like jerks
whilst the chancellor makes me cum
with his hand

I get so bored sometimes.

death story

BOY. An' then death hit 'er like a sledgehamma.

GIRL. How'd she die?

Boy. Got hit wi' a sledgehamma.

love story

Good night, says Gienevere turning her back, good night good knight. My knight after night, after knight after night, after knight after knight after knight after night.

Sometimes one feels compelled
To go to the Ireland of the late 1800's
And drink one's self to death

But it's not very feasible
No, not really realistic
Not in this day and age.

poem

All's well
Well,
Well for me
By my standards.

temple

nothing's sacred
says Christ,
he's right
an' all

Coming Out

a short comedy by Sam Kastin

Living room: a father and son;

SON. Father, I'm gay.

Father. Oh... Fancy a fuck?

The Sea, amended

When I was a little girl
a short play by Samuel Kastin

A man and a woman stand in front of a burning house. Their small child is with them, they hold her little hands. From the house we can hear a telephone ringing as it melts (this continues to the end).

Woman- John dear, it would appear that we are now homeless.

Man- Yes dear. Very much so.

They carry on watching the fire.

Daughter- (turning her head to us, she takes a step and consciously faces the the audience, this is all very sweet, like a curtsey. Eyes like Bambi); Just think, in the distance a s-sad sold'er and his lover...

They fade out.

In the distance;
We fade in:
A soldier holds another soldier, who is sobbing, in his arms. He sways, forming a melancholy and defiant waltz.

Soldier- (singing); Is that all there is, is that all there is/ If that's all there is my friends, then let's keep dancing/ Let's break out the booze and have a ball/ If that's all there is.

This fades out, he can speak part of the first verse if needs be, the words fading out, as it were, with lighting.

All we now see is the glow/ afterglow of burning.

There is the sound of an explosion offstage; what it is that is exploding, or has exploded, is unclear. The sound of the sea can now be heard as it draws nearer.

Running Water; end and epilogue

We are in the middle of the ocean. By the size of my beard I surmise that it has taken us a long time to get here. By Clarence's decomposition you can tell the heat of the sun. It pains me to see the sun burn him so. I cannot take it and so he is soon gone. We will never reach home, there is no home for men like us: our home is the sea and it is all we've ever known. I kiss his dead cheek and push him over the side, into the sea, burying him at sea. He is in heaven now.

Epilogue.
You can feel the waves beneath you, like the earth's pulse beating. Like a child being rocked in its crib. Those vultures come back. They become again their coil of death, my death bed's mobile. They have not forgotten me. The sun is in my eyes.
Drowsy and lulled, I close my eyes. In death's half-dream, I see her one last time. She rocks me in her arms softly, singing softly. Slowly the vultures swoop and waves gently crash. As this happens I hear that I have been singing my last words, accompanying the dream, "Que Cera, Cera".
The End.

Runing Water- end of Act 2 and start of Act 3.

End of Act 2
Falling, falling, crawling toward infinity the forest comes to an end. We find ourselves upon a pebble beach with black and blue and crimson stones. It is no white sand tropical relaxing beach, it is one steeped in the isolation and alienation of the souls of heroes and heroines. My wife took a photograph of it, before I knew her. The raft is still there, by the sole white rock.

Act 3
On
the raft, out at sea, salt in the lungs, the sun shines down on me. I
think of the birds above in the blue sky who migrate riding sea winds
who keep on flying. I think of the fish beneath in the bright,
sometimes dark, blue sea who are circumspect to current and must go
with tide who keep on swimming. I think of myself who is fatalistically driven by the action of self & others as I keep on floating.


Conclusion will hopefully be this weekend.

The Sea

A man and a woman stand in front of a burning house. Their small child is with them. From the house we can hear a telephone ringing as it melts (this continues to the end).

Woman- Dear John, it would appear that we are now homeless.

Man- Yes dear. Very much so.

There is the sound of an explosion from offstage; what it is that is exploding, or has exploded, is unclear. The sound of the sea can now be heard as it draws nearer.

Running Water: penultimate section, On The Farm

xv.
(parts missing. In brief: still not slept, not since leaving the wife, and an irksome digestive system). There is a cow upon the farm. A quiet animal which they call Inga. When it looks at you with those big brown eyes it has a calming effect. The farmer's daughter, Trudy, milks it at dawn. I think she talks to it as well. I wonder what she says.
xvi.
On the table there is a postcard from the farmer's brother. On the back there is, written, a poem: Dear God/..../There used to be three dots/But now there are four. On the front is the old holidaying sentiment, written in red, WISH YA WERE HERE. The return address is the nearest prison, miles away. Papa never has been able to forgive himself over that, Trudy says as she pours more wine.
xvii.
He falls asleep in the corn and in the morning there is a Scarecrow present on the farm that I have not seen before. Trudy asks me if I have seen her father, I say that I have. She asks me where to find him but I do not say. Flustered, she criticises everything I have ever done since being here and leaves me alone. With my fear I go to hide in the cow shed where Inga treats me kindly.
xviii.
My head is in my arms when I fall asleep but in her hands when I wake. She tells me that I must leave, that her husband is soon back from the war. That I can't I say kisses me we accidentally knocking over a pail of milk in the furore. Before departing she gives me this advice: oh, my dear, try not to be so lonely all the time. I go into the forest. I find Clarence by the stream.

A joke?

- Doctor, doctor I feel so sad in my broken heart and I'm so lonesome, I could cry. *sob*

- There, there my dear, here, take a tissue.

Pause.

What are you waiting for? Get out. I have cured you.

Running Water contd

xi.
What a beautiful pumpkin patch, she, C., exclaims as we drive past it. I force myself to agree. I do not tell her that amongst the potential Halloween lanterns lurks Nosferatu and MarvinTheMartian and a blood stained Ted Bundy; it is getting late and we needn't, both of us, be scared like me.
xii.
If you want me, I'll be in the bar, she says as she kisses my cheek goodbye. I take the time to watch her walk away along the railroad tracks, and, without my noticing, she is gone. I question if she ever existed, except for a tingling sensation felt in my cheek, her existance in my life passes with no trace. Nonetheless, She'll be ok, I say to myself, hoping that the Gods will consent.
xiii.
The wheels of the car fall off from either pathetic fallacy or inadvertent telekinesis or the bump in the road. Knowing that I will now have to walk many miles, carrying my dear dead friend, I ram my head into the steerinwheel, harmonisin with the cacophony. After hours of this, I fill my pockets with as much amphetamine from the glovebox I can carry and we leave. I realise neither of us have eaten since I shot him.
xiv.
Up there, on the top of the hill, I notice a farm. I climb the driveway. What you boys doin on my property asks the owner. Sir , we are on a pilgrimage, weary and hungry and willing to work for keep I explain. Him too he inquires of Clarence, the hardest worker I ever knew. I shrug. There is a pause.Come in and wash up and stay away from my daughter, she's bad news, he tells me. You too, by the looks of things, he observes.

Running Water (the story formerly known as: The Possibilities Are Uninfinite) parts 7-10

vii.
it's only gonna get worse before it gets even worse, she jokes as she serves me another beer. I am about to make good on her flirtations when a group of locals compliment me on the dead nigger. I fly at them with a broken bottle but no amount of Achillean rage can save me from the savage beating I take. I wake in the gutter alive; How did this happen? Who saved me? Was she my guardian angel? Is Clarence?
viii.
After what seems like days, I finally find a car that works. An old one made to last. Clarence takes the back seat, chauffered, and I get behind the wheel. It is Vinyl Thursday, playing all your favourite albums in their most physical form across the digital airwaves. Today it is the White Album on loop. With my first brandy of the day, I start the engine and put my foot down on the pedal. HeltEr SkelTer.
ix.
By the stone wall I take a right. She sits on the edge with her thumb in the air. Twenty metres of thought away I decide to stop. She slides off the edge and runs to the car as I open the door. Before she has even seated herself properly, she asks, in regards to Clarence, What happened to him? He slept with my wife, I answer. Musta been a heck of a time she says. And it still is.
x.
After a long while of open road I put my hand on her knee. She shoos it off, telling me, I once knew a man like that and I really hated it. She looks at me with sorrowful look, pleading something. Excuse me, I explain, I'm rather drunk. All the more reason to keep both hands on the wheel, she snarls. Don't worry Cleo, it'll be ok, the road goes on like this, straight on, and on, for miles and miles, I tell her. Looking ahead, we both sigh.

Cinema

Controversial film
Bunuel film
Black & white
I think of you while watching the manipulated light.

Running Water (episodes 1-6)

1.
We were drunk. The house had guns in it and I shot him. He was my best friend and I loved him dearly. As he died we made amends. I was to take him back to his hometown to be buried amongst his ancestors. My wife, of course, would be, at best, nonplussed by the notion. She has no comprehension of honour, at least not in the Homeric sense.
2.
She doesn't take it well. It's the other side of the world, you have no car, you have no money; she tells me, as if I do not already know. Why can't you bury him here? she asks. Because this land is a shit-hole, I tell her. She crys and so do I. It is our last night together.
3.
Is uncky Clarence a-sleepin' pop? he asks. No Maurice, Uncle Clarence is dead, I shot him in the stomach, I tell him, Beware the fury you have inherited from me son, it will be your downfall and is about to leave you fatherless. I make to leave. Where you going with dead uncky Clarence? I must plant him under the tree of our childhoods'. Oh, he say and goes to bed. I do leave, heart broken.
4.
The sun's burning is today articulated through the amber shade with which it colours the sky. I pass the men setting their crop ablaze and, they hope, with the flames, destroying the locusts devouring it. The fire becomes the afterglow of my presence in this town. I leave to become just a memory signified by the ash on the plain.
5.
Vultures circle themselves into a jagged coil up above my head. They goad me, they want me to hand over dead Clarence. They beseech me, they will make it easier upon me when my time too does come if I comply. I cannot, I throw a rock skyward, scraping one of their formidable wings. Before flying away, until another day, they prophesise my death; their shrieks indicate that it will be unpleasant.
6.
It's midday, or at least it appears to be, when I arrive in the city. The sun beats down on the streets, and upon building after building. Arrakis, I say to Clarence.

-----
* Running Water is a serial of Facebook status updates telling the story of Joey Joe and dead Clarence. A sort of barmy idea to up the quality of stuff on there. Please bear in mind that with the intended medium of the story, live feeds et al., and whatnot, there is an ellipsis of time, and usually space, between the episodes.
Warm Regards,
S.K.

An open letter to Earth

Dear Planet,

From my observations, I am led to believe you were once a thing of around about infinite beauty. On behalf of my people I would like to apologise for disfiguring you so.

Sincerely,
Sam Kastin.

After all

J- But, you know, really, after all, you can't really complain too much.

Pause.

R- After all what?

J- What?

R- Forget it.