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Hearth and home
The chimney sweep came this afternoon… a pleasant man in his fifties, indeed covered with soot, indeed with black brushes of various kinds. And even a blackened, grimy cloth to protect the carpet – although it didn't look as though it would protect much, he's clearly been doing this for years, as the room looked…
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Phantasmata
A day of haze: last night my guts were grinding and exploding, from what I don't know, so I took a tiny pill of codeine phosphate – it worked, but as always it made me hazy, put me to sleep, and then this morning I was still groggy until afternoon. A day of confusion and…
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continued….
Having mentioned Charles Wright's poem 'Snow', perhaps no copyright lawyer will be too upset if I quote it: Snow If we, as we are, are dust, and dust, as it will, rises,Then we will rise, and recongregateIn the wind, in the cloud, and be their issue, Things in a fall in a world of fall,…
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Looking for a poem
Four in the morning: my stomach is bothering me (was it the soy sauce?). Restless, stretches of time in bed sectioned with looks at computer screens and taking various books off the shelves. I keep looking through the five shelves of poetry for just what I want to read: I don't know what it is…
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Out of thin air
An e-mail arrives, from persons unknown, from parts unknown – subject heading: "Hey sexy music prof." No, it's not spam – or at least not mass-produced spam. A viola player, from the US; his website shows him to be a cheerful bear type, with a beard (I'm a sucker for facial hair – can barely…
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Broken lines of communication
A week since I've written in a journal, or done any spontaneous morning writing (see Dorothea Brande's famous 1934 book for instructions); and more since I've written here. Well, let's see… an onslaught of students, most of them pleasant though some pretty feckless, but the sheer chaotic mass, the noise and mess, of them is…
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Paul Attinello 