Mr. Bond (2)

Mr. Bond

You’re a kite dancing in a hurricane, Mr. Bond.

You’re a badly-glued shoe in an overflowing sewer system, Mr. Bond

You’re a studious hamster in a pen full of rabid dogs, Mr. Bond

You’re 90’s Bowie at a 70’s Bowie show, Mr. Bond

You’re Brexit, Mr. Bond

Goodbye Bowie

I’ve not been one for posting these sorts of messages about people I don’t know even if I’m sad about them. David Bowie, though?

I realise I actually believed he couldn’t die.

He was a peerless, incredible artist and will be greatly missed. Many of his songs conjure in me memories of intense joy, particularly the likes of Space Oddity, Soul Love and Rock n Roll suicide, which I’d unashamedly push as two minutes and fifty-seven seconds of perfection.

I could go on and on and on, but right now my heart is heavy and my eyes are teary. Goodbye Ziggy, Thin White Duke, Aladdin Sane… we know you’re up there somewhere.