Book binge
Up to London again. Working on the train on poems this morning, trying to shuffle the poems of The Nightwork pamphlet into some kind of order as the deadline for getting the stuff ready for the pamphlet is looming.
A happy day's work and I went to Foyles, which was a treasure trove for books when I was a lad. I came out with four books, the new Forward Anthology of poetry, a first collection by a poet called Tara Bergin which looked quite interesting, and Fictions by Borges which I heard being discussed on Radio 4. Reading my final purchase, the ubiquitous Simon Armitage's Selected Poems. I have had a bit of a stupid prejudice against his work till now and I found myself mildly enjoying the dozen or so poems I read.
Great to be home and not have to do more work. Lorraine had cooked a chicken tagine which was full of lemony goodness, and we relaxed in front of Masterchef before taking a walk in the park after dark too. The air was thick with pollen, and even I found myself feeling peppery around the eyes, and my nose running. Still lovely to be walking about with Lorraine chatting.
A happy day's work and I went to Foyles, which was a treasure trove for books when I was a lad. I came out with four books, the new Forward Anthology of poetry, a first collection by a poet called Tara Bergin which looked quite interesting, and Fictions by Borges which I heard being discussed on Radio 4. Reading my final purchase, the ubiquitous Simon Armitage's Selected Poems. I have had a bit of a stupid prejudice against his work till now and I found myself mildly enjoying the dozen or so poems I read.
Great to be home and not have to do more work. Lorraine had cooked a chicken tagine which was full of lemony goodness, and we relaxed in front of Masterchef before taking a walk in the park after dark too. The air was thick with pollen, and even I found myself feeling peppery around the eyes, and my nose running. Still lovely to be walking about with Lorraine chatting.
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