I Don't Want A Tombstone. You Could

What Shop Did This Book Come From? She Asked. Her Father Was Looking Worried At The Cooker. He Always Got Rice Wrong. I Don't Know, Brooksie, He Said, I Don't Remember. That Was Unimaginable, Not Remembering Where A Book Has Come From! And Where It Was Bought From! That Was Part Of The Whole History, The Whole Point, Of Any Book That You Owned! And When You Picked It Up Later In The House At Home, You Knew, You Just Knew By Looking And Having It In Your Hand, Where It Came From And Where You Got It And When And Why You'd Decided To Buy It.

I Had A Job, I Got Ill, I Left The Job To Get Better, And While I Was Getting Better, I Wrote Some Stories. I Sent Them To Some Publishers And The Fifth One Who Replied Said They'd Take Them. Then They Went Bankrupt. Then That Bankrupt Publisher Got Bought By A Bigger Firm. Story: In The End Is The Beginning, And In The Beginning Is The End.

Tonight I Can Smell The Season The Way It's Usually Only Possible To At The Very First Moments Of Its Return, Before You're Used To It, When You've Forgotten Its Smell, Then There It Is Back In The Air And The Flow Of Things Shifting And Resettling Again.

The Head Has Its Confines. The Head’s Got Those All Right, And The Heart. The Heart Has Its Reasons.

I Was At The Tail End Of The Family. The Next Brother Along Was Already Seven Years Older Than Me. I Remember Growing Up By Myself, Playing Games By Myself.