The Storm

It’s been a thunder-full week, “storms everywhere” screamed BBC News “TheEnd is Nigh”. Fortunately it’s not nigh at all.   The worst that’s  happened to me so far is my trousers got sploshed as I  splished my way to a studio on a wet Tuesday morning.  Not the stuff of the ten oclock news is it?  

It’s at the BBC studios that I  finished a documentary on four radio four called The Black Boy. It’s a curious thirty minute investigation into the disappearance of pub signs called The Black Boy in which I  search the country for the true meaning of The Black Boy, who he was and why he’s disappearing.  It’ll be broadcast on March 24th.   

I don’t drink alcohol myself. With all that splishing and sploshing  I've chosen to stay  in most of this week and  put the final touches to Listener my next collection of poems out in October  on Canongate Books . By pressing SEND minutes ago I sent it off to Francis the editor.  It’s a real book day. Also at a conference in London my play Something Dark will be published by Oberon Books in a collection called Hidden Gems edited by Deidre Osborne.  Tonight I’m going to see my friend Whitney’s exhibition in soho.  

Most importantly and crucial to my artistic development I’ve ordered HALO 2 because there are battles to be won! Last night I made sweet and sour sauce with prawn friedrice and it was delicious.  Deeeelicious.

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