Dipping thin ginger cookies into cups of tea and reading poetry. All alone. How much do I love my work?
Off to the land of strange bandages now, in search of salad...

Never mind living in a Cave - am working in a Retail Desert. Not only the sandwich shop but even the petrol station appear to be closed until the second coming. This has driven me further afield in my hunting and gathering and led to the remarkable discovery of an allegedly 24hr salad bar at the hospital. Joy indeed. Just have to pretend the people with improbable bandage arrangements aren't real. And somehow ignore insanitized hospital smell.

Trying to get the measure of Adrienne Rich. Have started with Diving Into the Wreck, and got as far as 'Living in the Cave':

Reading the parable of the Cave
While living in the cave

This may provide a way in to all those striations of air in the ice cubes, coming right out and saying unsayable things.
I had not expected there to be humour running through these poems because Adrienne Rich is a lesbian and a feminist and is therefore humourless, right?

'The Ninth Symphony
of Beethoven Understood At Last
As a Sexual Message'.

'Sensuality dessicates in words'.

Got the whole of skool to myself today. Getting on with Adrienne Rich and a book about Einstein's influence on poetry. Feeling kinda blurred. Xmas day was a hangover, boxing day was an eating competition. Xmas eve was lots of fun & nonsense down the King St Run. Old and new white kids with black clothes and smelly hair. Goths these days have Nokias tacked to their studded belts. We maintained our traditional camp corner. Richard's mushroom-n-chilli tequila gave me the illusion of steady sobriety throughout the evening. A great way to drink - but a bad way to wake up at 5am on xmas day, in foetal position fully clothed on top of the covers. Bleh.