as joe has heard in exhaustive detail over the last few hours, douglas is a remarkable human being; in a world of my making, individuals who could locate tofu hot dogs and half-price sandman back issues in the span of an hour would be promptly canonized.
the weekend became nice and sluggish after friday's peripheral celebrity extravaganza - long train rides, quality time with byatt's possession (so far, a hit), realizing that sleeping until ten is, empirically, a luxury. we like it when down time feels valuable.
Small things
make the past.
Make the present seem out of place.
A woman cracking and twisting.
Black atoms falling down
on green leaves.
If I am ever to go back
to what I loved first
here are words to be wished on -
(almost, you can see, an incantation).
Summon blue air
out of a corridor between
a mountain range and a sea
(this at least has never changed).
Empty out the streets.
Fit the cars easily
into their parking places.
Slow the buses down by thirty years.
Observe a brave, fiery shower
above a plate
of bacon and potatoes
(we are nearly there).
Now say dinner for lunch.
And teatime for supper.
And see how it comes again -
My little earth.
My city of white pepper.
(eavan boland, "the old city")
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