Dead Papa Toothwort exhales, relaxes, lolls inside the stile, smiles and drinks it in, his English symphony.
LANNY, Max Porter (UK) (US)
When wakefulness allows, I walk into town for lunch and a glass of wine. My walks always end up by the water. Today, at the top of the cliff next to the funicular rail, looking out over the estuary, my Thames Delta: the biggest sky we have out here, always strewn with cloud and scratched by jet planes. Leaning on the fence and drinking it in. Inbox holding at 17, listening to EYE OF TUNGUSKA, deciding what book to start reading tonight.