what will he do next ?

November already. I forget who I am at this time of year. A lot of research goes into working it out again. Then I write something & look at it & think: You’re not him, come on. Whoever I am, he doesn’t want to be found. It’s laborious. It gets worse into December. Meanwhile work laps up around your feet, lots of already sodden paper with nothing written on it. That tells the whole story. Or would do, if he had a printer, whoever he is. At the moment he seems to be writing an introduction to The Day of the Triffids, reading Will Eaves’ first volume of poetry, Sound Houses, listening to Bert Jansch’s late-life reinvention of Blues Run the Game.

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3 responses to “what will he do next ?

  1. You lose yourself, you reappear -

    Meanwhile, far from our timid consensus matrix, a gang of fearless reality alambristas makes contact with He Who Is Not To Be Named:



  2. uzwi

    It’s all right, Maw.

  3. Brendan

    Don’t worry, I remember. I’ve got it written down in the notebook between the recipe for alabaster macaroons and Kenneth Patchen’s pager number. Personally, I become unable to forget myself around December; it’s very uncomfortable around the New Year.