good bye duty,
hello free, my free estee
hello my free,
i have been 11 days out and the jetlag is gone. oxford was whispy willowing billowing pink clouds swirled with elderflower cordial and mamá’s tortilla de patata. beetroots and gooseberries and a goose pooping berries. london has been tubes and buses and ravenscourt park, where little pakistani boys play football and imitate their father’s grace, shouting nonsense insults at a 16 year old speckled referee who volunteered his summer to the cause, and chubby-eyed yellow-haired brits gulping pimm’s cup by the thames, where gulls and coots search desperately for stale bread and frozen bread and the daily bread, like you and i. rosebushes named “nostalgia ” (coral-colored) and “dorothy’s long summer”(pale summer), and big red men with big red noses and faded blue tattoos wear electric yellow vests and construct their construction. not one looks my way, not even one wink!
i’ve quadrupled my olive oil intake. now it’s time for berlin.