DEADSTONE - poems to make you crawl back into the grave... I went out walking late last night, slowly making my way to a final destination; I don't know if that was heaven or hell, I couldn't tell. It was dark and I was tired so I stopped by a sort of a bus-stop and I figured I'd wait there for a while; maybe someone would come along. There was a worn and slightly torn timetable of a kind and I paused in front of it and I looked at the places on the route for the sort of bus that stops in this sort of place, and they were all there - madness, war, murder, perversion, suicide, animal cruelty, despair... and a bit of fun and mockery added on as request stops only. I looked and I sighed and I thought -well, I've been everywhere on this route. Then I noticed an ancient graveyard opposite, so I took a walk and climbed over the small and crumbling-stone wall and found myself stood in the corner of this lonely place. There was one particular headstone that drew my attention, very old and weather-beaten, tucked right into the corner on its own so I went over and looked at it and then I saw that it had my name on it. So I thought - oh, maybe I've already arrived, and this is how it ends. Or maybe, this is how it all begins...