This will hurt me...

One month after some other bushfire. Primrose Sands, the Forestier Peninsula. February 2013. The Road , Cormac McCarthy: Heartbreaking post-apocalyptic tale of father and son. Not much more than you can say than it is an emotionally shattering fable yet. Cold, hard and painful. Wonderful! A+ . Nabokov's Quartet , Vladimir Nabokov: A collection of four of Nabokov's short stories, published late in his life. I really liked the first one, which offers a lovely psychological depiction of a flawed fellow in a tricky situation. Two others I enjoyed, another less so. Decent. C+ .

Cracks in the road. Wellington Road, Lindisfarne. April 2012. This poem by James Wright really is one of my all-time favourites. I've waxed lyrical about this poem to quite a few people over the years, and more than a handful struggle to believe that the image of a frog destroyed by a car could ever be interpreted romantically. I assert that it is! [SPOILER ALERT] This is a poem about risk . Sometimes, just sometimes, the risk is worth it. Small Frogs Killed On The Highway , James Wright Still, I would leap too Into the light, If I had the chance. It is everything, the wet green stalk of the field On the other side of the road. They crouch there, too, faltering in terror And take strange wing. Many Of the dead never moved, but many Of the dead are alive forever in the split second Auto headlights more sudden Than their drivers know. The drivers burrow backward into dank pools Where nothing begets Nothing. Across the road, tadpoles are dancing On the quarter...

I'm on an island. Intersection of Grosvenor and York Streets, Dynnyrne. October 2011. I want to eat a hare. I could cope with a rabbit. I won't eat a guinea pig. Rats are off limits.