A PLACE FOR SIDEWAYS TRAINS OF THOUGHT
Listen to the poem here On my last day in Mexico, Mexico City bade farewell to me before I had had time to pack my bags. I looked for water late at night and every road performed a drum-roll down each side— shop-shutters closing, clanging, just for me— Goodbye, good luck and most of all... Continue Reading →
(Listen to the poem here) Après le repas à Oaxtepec le patron du restaurant nous dit d’un air de satisfaction agaçant que toute sa viande vient du Texas. Je trouve que ce n’est pas normal de manger tellement hormonal. Au Mexique on trouve partout des traces olmèques, toltèques, aztèques, mixtèques, mais qu’en est-il... Continue Reading →
(Listen to the poem here) The sticker on the window tells us YAUTEPEC although the rope-haired lad who is jutting from the bus’s door into the foaming crowd, much like a figurehead in stormy seas, is shouting, “Yaute, Yaute, Yaute, Yaute.” Perhaps it’s lexically Mexican to chop the end of place names when you’re touting... Continue Reading →
Some time ago I posted an article on my liking for random walks, in which I outlined an insanely complicated method to get to places you weren't planning to see. Recently I found another way to go to randomly explore the world, without getting up from my chair. A few days ago, as I was... Continue Reading →
(Listen to the poem here) "This," says the pharmacist reading the label, "is good for eyesight, indigestion, back ache, the liver, children and old age. Or," she adds, reading my face, "else we have three tubes of toothpaste for the price of one." (This poem is included in my book The Observation Car which is... Continue Reading →
(Listen to the poem here) There's dozing in the market in Cholula in the afternoon. Apart from that, some dogs. Dog one is trying hard to be a crocodile: in pancake pose under the portico it floats its snout upon the tiles. Dog two is sleeping in the middle of the road. Dog three is... Continue Reading →
(Listen to the poem here) Santo Domingo does what a church should do. It makes you crane your neck to take it in. It stares the neighbouring houses down into a huddled single-storied squat. It says, "The sky is mine and mine alone, lift up your heads, then bow them down again." I think... Continue Reading →
Mexican bus ride was the US title given to a Buñuel film called Subida al cielo (Ascent to Heaven). What follows is about a Mexican bus ride of my own and has nothing to do with the film, I just liked the poster and it is always worthwhile mentioning Buñuel, but you can see an excerpt here.... Continue Reading →
(Listen to the poem here) I'd never seen a butterfly in town before. On Calle Dos de Mayo in Cuautla there was one, red, black and big and beautiful and making stops at all the same shop windows I went staring at. ... Continue Reading →