Wednesday, June the 16th, 2004

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About Belt, Bong & Yaw

Red huts on the horizon stank of steam. Yaw's boil made Belt more hollow. He went towards the lighthouse with paint from the hotels. Bong spoke of coastguards, anvils, butter and Yaw. Belt felt sick. Bong stank of starch. Yaw had his wax. He broke up in the potters.

Horses had got Bong all worn out. Belt's more furtive. He's got lawns. Yaw caught a fever. Bong yelped. Wellington boots pained him. Yaw was floored. Belt took a closer look. Things looked black. Bong had gravy in his sack. Some of Yaw's pancakes took Bong aback. He kept on mentioning Belt behind his back. Yaw was careful with his spoon. Belt went to the kennels. Bong rang a bell. He threw up in his dinner. That made Yaw gawp. He curled up by the sails. They put Bong in prison. He was all tucked up. Yaw wrote a letter to his mother. Belt was in the pantry helping Bong make butter.

Fooling around in Didcot, Yaw found some bones. Those bones were Bong's bones. Belt's matron ate his cheese. Yaw muttered. He fell about in fits. At the waterworks, Belt broke corks. His elk was in a tent. It looked like Bong. Bread rolls and snacks were stacked in crates. Yaw put them by his flask. He threw up on some rudders.

Bong's belt made Belt choke. Yaw coughed up. Hooks in Bong's bungalow looked like claws. But Belt kept calm. Yaw disembarked from a barge. His harbour was red. Belt's was blue. He struck a match. Bong bent twine. His coat was torn. His gun was stuck. Belt's pottery had to be glued. But Yaw's was hard. It looked like wood. Bong had said it would. Bong stank. But Belt had other irons. They raged. Bong's grew. Yaw had no irons in the fire. He kept them in his lockers.