novelty

Just when you thought maybe I had had enough of erratic internet connections, I go and prove you wrong. How naive of you. That said, it doesn't hold a torch to SWAN. But the point is that this one is in the living room in my flat what I'm living at now, which makes me x% happier than before. And having bought food, it only remains to buy bin liners and honey and I'm set. And the small matter of a bed, which I hope to sort out tomorrow...

The weekend I spent in Budapest, with Joe. For those who don't know him, Joe is the lovechild of Carl Jung, Dean Cassidy, Steve Lamacq and Noam Chomsky, which isn't necessarily a compliment. For anyone interested, he's now in Budapest until further notice. His flat is undemanding and he will make you feel at home should you wish to visit. Our weekend was full of talking around and around and walking around and around. I didn't take any photos to speak of as I'm done for now with the tourist game. I do have a photo of the sign at Gyor railway station (the o has diagonal lines over it, like rain coming from the northwest. The reason for this is the cowardly and power-tripping respective natures of two unhinged, pig-feeding gangsters working on the Hungarian railways. I will not forgive them. In my desparation I was unable to write well, so the poem Death in Gyor never got made. This is unlike my good friend and erstwhile fellow traveller Dave, who writes great even when under pressure; it is also unlike the poem Un-animus, what I did write last night. It's kind of for Oli.

Un-animus (or: An Open Motion)

Proposition: this house believes I want to die
The murmuring audience turns its head to the right, where I'm sat
Opposition: preposterous! mere speculation, and scandalous to boot!
(But you can see he doesn't catch my eye.)
As the judges consider what they've heard
I reach into my pocket and have the last word.