Friday, 16 November 2012


What’s your name – Jean

Where do you live  - I sold the house

What about your son – I haven’t seen him in years (conversation at respite home sometime Monday this week)

outside it’s cold. pain like those wooden teeth becoming my nerves. i feed the squirrels, the birds. boldest squirrel clatters along fence, with acrobatic defiance of (utilisation of) gravity leaps into tree starts on peanuts. his mate starts on her stash, other squirrels leap and dig. both blackbirds straight down for sultanas. a pair of robins. i make my way indoors. (action this morning, 7.30 am).

though the squirrels are grey their tails shine in the dullness of the day. and then there are the proud blackbird eyes, so sharp. 

calais. 1974. souvenir eiffel tower. rain on container lorry window. man on forecourt, cursing.

rain on riot shields, 1985. only thoughts. only thoughts. feed the squirrels, birds again in an hour. 

No comments:

Post a Comment