So I read the interview with D’Arcy from the Smashing Pumpkins, the only one she’s given in twenty years, and thought oh, she’s crazy, too hard to work with I guess, and because she didn’t answer the question about whether she’d kept playing or not I thought of course they’d be wary about including her in the studio or the tour, but then the next thought was what if she’s right, and the one after that was fuck them she’s right! they’re pigs! and a real band – a band that could really save you – is one that would configure itself around its weakest member and find the music that would lift that member up and forever unfold her or him into a studio of welcome.

As though one day I got into a fight in a carpark and you got out of the front seat to call the other woman a fuckwit and then we embraced and agreed on burgers and then we even agreed on Hilary Clinton for a moment I paused Antiques Road Show to say it’s like you could knock on the side of her and hear the ringing right through our whole abyss play the silver guy immediately repeats knock just here on the side it is hollow we hold hands this is uncanny and it’s so good when the value is a surprise it’s a surprise

there’s an intermediary gland

into the crack of the milk-couch and why wouldn't you? bubble in little fish. big mouth little mouth. jingle jingle jingle on. a crack in a cup is every creature that learns to fly. wants instead to be home on the range where the dean and the metadata is someone else's bag. bigfellow do. pfft a conesnail and he pucked you. with his dart. now it's inflammation's bedtime. so imagine this is six weeks longer we can do it with mirrors. the moment flatumerous in silver attentions. lay it out. lay it out lay it out. it a layer unimpressed. that's not where I'm going into dark give in up. that's not where I'm going into warm crooks till morning.

Huma Abedin

Aue. An inhumed headman and numbed media badmen hide in a humid maiden bin. In amid dune – mien, mane; in amid bean – mead, haem and din. Uh, hi, adieu, I baa, and bam – a ham in bandeau be in behind me, nude, humane, dumb. I dub him adman, I dub him beadman. I aim and beam. He mad. He maenad. I dam and dim. In a nub, a nib: I’m mean, him an idea. I and he maun idem unbe.

to start again from listening. a colleague's thin shirt gaping lightly at the buttons - not because he's fat but because it needs an iron. saying I would let that poem lie for a year and then violently strip it - no not him saying that, me saying that, not to him, to a friend on email. or just until you can get its wildness. but if you write like me you'll hardly write anything. every day every day. leaving out the Matron saying 'constipation! one, one, one, one, one, like rabbit droppings!' which would have been the best part. 

our sewage pipe got so full of tree roots that the toilet was constantly blocking. and then the whole garden got dug up, and now it's grown over with grass again but the soil is hard clay and uneven and T fell over yesterday morning and has a Strawberry Shortcake sticking plaster on his face. 

I fall asleep with him most nights, often in my work clothes. try to brush my teeth first just in case. be there soon. 

and what is in the day? a couple of hours reading an honours thesis on the balcony in the brilliant sun, above the other childcare centre, above the elm tree, burning hot in the sun but I really long for it on my skin which feels too cool in the shade when I've forgotten my cardigan. feet up on a decaying wicker chair. the male childcare teacher roaring at the kiddies like a pirate or a monster and they giggle. a union meeting with lists on the paper stuck to the whiteboard. the union rep's painful hip, their need to explain to me, the last one left in the room.  

emails from anxious colleagues and being surprised to find there are things I just don't care about any more, things I won't wind up about. 

a couple of hours talking about Japanese poetry - planning a reading tour, talking through a translation. just two lines to refine on this one now - trying to avoid the 'cry/die' rhyme which comes very easily towards the end but which doesn't catch its weight. 'soon a newborn will cry' but it's more like 'soon the cry of a newborn will sound', which is unnecessary. 'and then someone will die' but it's more like 'and therefore someone is going to become dead'.

the months of silence the list of deadlines sailing past me. 

the sector was not too happy about that.