Martin Poppelwell

besides for me the question of wether to call her ma, mag or countess caca, she having for countless years been deaf as a post. i think she was quite incontinent, both of faeces and water, but a kind of prudishness made us avoid the subject when we met, a, 2020
dear bicycle, i shall not call you bike, you were green, like so many of your generation. i don't know why. it is a pleasure to meet it again. to describe it at length would be a pleasure. it had a little red horn instead of a bell fashionable in your day, 2020
i should add, before i get down to the facts, you'd swear they were facts, of that distant summer afternoon , with this deaf, blind impotent, mad old woman, who called me dan and whom i called mag, and with her alone, i - no i can't say it. that is to say, 2020
in any case i didn't come to listen to her. i got into communication with her by knocking on her skull. one knock meant yes, two no, three i don't know, four money, five goodbye. i was hard put to ram this into her ruined and frantic understanding, but i , 2020