wandering wastelands between redbridge and kennington thinking about becoming/finding a murder victim; drinking too much mint tea by day and killing too many mosquitos by night; lying down to sleep with that massive spider so close to my head, never mind, I need something to eat the crane-flies; the colour of my hair, before it goes grey again; long and complicated dreams.
learning about the cockerel that learned to choke like a dying man in a bewildering cultural confluence of chicken-talk; scruffy blue-tits that can't eat the aphids fast enough; greenfinches in Jason's back garden, singing on the bird-feeder tower; the peeing zebra book.
