Dylan Thomas, in First Class, dispatching Rainbow Trout (tatties, peas and half a stout). There's scurf on the shoulders of his tweed ('Howell's of St. Mary St., Cardiff'). Mistook him for a Beatle. "Ringo's in the dining car!" "A cwtsh for a poxy autograph?" (Who's he think he is! Richard Burton?) … Continue reading rumbling over the severn, my belly thinking my throat’s been cut.
Of clearing her father’s house in Enfield, she would only stand to say, “Have you ever tried to sell a baby grand? Or even given one away?” After forever it was all that was left. Guess this world has little need for a baby grand beneath a paper lampshade, on the quiet parquet. … Continue reading Prompts for future conversation.
this autumn morning, the same, almost so, as several in childhood, spent trying not to watch the bowl of oats and milk cooling on the sill. "waiting," he told me, "is a patient game." watching vapours reach for the ceiling. "the ancient greeks made shields from porridge. or was it the polynesians?" he … Continue reading re: ancient civilisations.
nickreeves 