Wednesday, September 28, 2016


Upstairs in this place. I'm going to take a string of pearls away with me. It's mine anyway, so that's okay. But then it's much longer than I thought. Twice round the neck is not enough. And apart from pearls in a row, I find it also has those chunky, fashionable glass and acrylic shapes. I'm worried now that it might not be mine, after all. I take it off and put it in my coat pocket where it barely fits. Down a flight of stairs and J.... is working on the landing floorboards, by an open door to a grand, empty room. Without ceasing to work, he makes his usual self-possessed and good-humored banter about me leaving. Normally I would stay a while and go into the room, but I'm too worried that he will notice the pocket of my coat bulging with the huge necklace, which I try to keep turned away from him. Even though it was mine, I feel like I am stealing it from the house.

Tuesday, August 23, 2016


In a hotel room. The small picture is doing something terrible, something it doesn't want anyone else to know. What it was is about to vanish from my mind, so I put it on the corner of the bed, and try to capture it by filming with my phonecam. But it resists by creating a deafening sound and starting to burn, the more I try to get an angle to record it, the more intense the burning. It burns like magnesium, only crimson. There's someone at the door. I am afraid. A person is there and there are many other people looking out of their doors or near their doors in the corridor. "Your music is very loud."

Sunday, August 21, 2016


I am in a friend's place, chatting with her husband. He asks, "Are you close, intimate, you two?" I say, "A bit." Just then she appears in a full length flannelette nightie on her way to bed. She's indifferent to our conversation but looks like she might be thinking it's a bit late. I add, "Not really."

Sunday, June 12, 2016


Running here there and everywhere very lost in New York. Nearly midnight in a big industrial yard where they're closing up. Run up the hill and call to the guy closing up, can you help me, I need to get a cab. A strange hotel with miniscule rooms. Two girls next door seem cheerful. From my room I go back down to the lobby through a tube that is quite claustrophobic, surprised not to be more anxious but I fit through. Then in Dublin running for the 19 or is it the 19A? in Parnell Square. The bus is a hybrid of a bus downstairs and a floor of a building upstairs. I am on board, I made it.

Tuesday, April 26, 2016

From the night thoughts notebook

I can't stop thinking the stupid way I think.

Where someone was when he heard something

Walking down a small street, a busy street, with -. It's moving to think this is where some historic figure was when he heard something. She clings to me. A very loving feeling. We stand together that way, looking down the street as others go by. Then turn to go back still embracing. This is not who I thought would love me. Another passes & smiles to see how we are now so close. It's the same one.

Sunday, March 20, 2016

Repeated inability

Military figures, like statues, need care taken.
A very impressive classical building, huge, with everything of the finest quality and the highest possible ceilings etc. Go to lead them there. Meanwhile a vast ceremonial parade going there.
Take friends there but it's a different, no less impressive, building next door. It is busy. Amid office desks there are Irish military officers, all tall, straight, slim - so impressive - showing Ireland in a good light.
But I haven't found the statues that need care yet. And I realise I've forgotten my jacket. I have to go back for it, and so lose contact with my friends.