I am magnificently lazy with my lion sized hair thinking London happens as far South as Sydney*. I've never been one for cardinal points but its here now despite my longing for bigger windows to better picture the wild juxtaposition of rain, fire and the small round cat at my feet.
I've been pushing things into my head feeling the lock down click pointing North away from empty. If there were halos mine would be garamond narrow 3. Hunger is sudden so I am longing like the cat for Grizelda's roasting chicken. She's calling back to the timer on the oven. I'm not sure what she's using but it sounds like a spoon cousin, not to cut out your heart but to baste it.
I am need of something, a day, a sleep, a rest, tea on a tray or adrenalin straight to the heart. I am exhausted despite my epic magnificent lazing on the floor by the fire. I am exhausted and it is all my fault. Friday night Superman and I went to hear Shaun Tan in conversation at Gleebooks and in his quiet way he informed my footsteps. I stood in line to have my book signed chatting ridiculously to Superman until it was my turn, he dipped his finger in ink and fingerprinted my book and I told him I threw a mandarin, he smiled up at me as he signed his name, I said I didn't mean to throw the mandarin.
Superman drove us across town to see Holly Throsby at The Factory and in her quiet way she informed my footsteps. We drank wine by the fire until it was impossibly late and slept until midday. The icy wind of death followed us from street, to cafe to street, through two movies, one delivered dinner and a drive across perimeters to Superman's house for supplies. We sat by the fire until it was impossibly late then we slept until midday and Superman sat in stern silence over his work. I began my epic sprawling, organising my wagon circle of books, papers and thought. I usually work alone because ribbons of thought pop and unfurl, they are easily tangled by the presence of people but lately I've been writing next to Superman while he sits silent and stern over his work. My mad ribbons are exploding everywhere but float easily around him and I don't mind reading out the occasional sentence or consulting on word choice or putting down my pen or book to take up one of his papers or thoughts.
This afternoon Superman suggested a sentence, I accepted it with unusual easiness and stared as it made miraculous sense out of a struggling infant paragraph. Nobody has ever offered me words before and I'm sure that if anyone had ever asked the question I would have stomped my foot and said I would never take words from another, if anybody dared to offer them. I would have stamped and blown out quick air like a horse. I am becoming increasingly aware that I am often wrong, about myself.
*"London happens as far South as Sydney" is a line I stole from one of The Beautiful Boys, it is in one of his poems, I don't remember what it is called but it is good.
I've been pushing things into my head feeling the lock down click pointing North away from empty. If there were halos mine would be garamond narrow 3. Hunger is sudden so I am longing like the cat for Grizelda's roasting chicken. She's calling back to the timer on the oven. I'm not sure what she's using but it sounds like a spoon cousin, not to cut out your heart but to baste it.
I am need of something, a day, a sleep, a rest, tea on a tray or adrenalin straight to the heart. I am exhausted despite my epic magnificent lazing on the floor by the fire. I am exhausted and it is all my fault. Friday night Superman and I went to hear Shaun Tan in conversation at Gleebooks and in his quiet way he informed my footsteps. I stood in line to have my book signed chatting ridiculously to Superman until it was my turn, he dipped his finger in ink and fingerprinted my book and I told him I threw a mandarin, he smiled up at me as he signed his name, I said I didn't mean to throw the mandarin.
Superman drove us across town to see Holly Throsby at The Factory and in her quiet way she informed my footsteps. We drank wine by the fire until it was impossibly late and slept until midday. The icy wind of death followed us from street, to cafe to street, through two movies, one delivered dinner and a drive across perimeters to Superman's house for supplies. We sat by the fire until it was impossibly late then we slept until midday and Superman sat in stern silence over his work. I began my epic sprawling, organising my wagon circle of books, papers and thought. I usually work alone because ribbons of thought pop and unfurl, they are easily tangled by the presence of people but lately I've been writing next to Superman while he sits silent and stern over his work. My mad ribbons are exploding everywhere but float easily around him and I don't mind reading out the occasional sentence or consulting on word choice or putting down my pen or book to take up one of his papers or thoughts.
This afternoon Superman suggested a sentence, I accepted it with unusual easiness and stared as it made miraculous sense out of a struggling infant paragraph. Nobody has ever offered me words before and I'm sure that if anyone had ever asked the question I would have stomped my foot and said I would never take words from another, if anybody dared to offer them. I would have stamped and blown out quick air like a horse. I am becoming increasingly aware that I am often wrong, about myself.
*"London happens as far South as Sydney" is a line I stole from one of The Beautiful Boys, it is in one of his poems, I don't remember what it is called but it is good.
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Located on the River Thames, capital of England and the United Kingdom. 51°30′28″N 00°07′41″W.
LONDON!
Located in (amongst many others) the work of Arthur Conan Doyle, Charles Dickens, the cover of Abbey Road and particularly in the opening sequence to every episode of Danger Mouse.
It is probable that by now even London is in LONDON!