And you can't remember where your heart once lay
My poem "A Correct Interpretation" has been accepted by Not One of Us. It is the poem I wrote for the yahrzeit of the molasses flood, incorporating other Boston disasters and the way that time has gone strange since the spring of 2020. The title comes from Nigel Kneale's The Stone Tape (1972), defining a ghost: "Let's say it's a mass of data waiting for a correct interpretation."
The rest of my day was lost to my lungs.
thisbluespirit linked me a treasure trove of British TV plays which is waiting for me like an event horizon; it has already furnished several items about which I have been curious for decades and one which I did not expect ever to see. It would be nice to be able to do anything with my brain at all.
The rest of my day was lost to my lungs.

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Thinking of you.
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*heal up, Sovay's lungs*
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WOW. I will be diving into that. Oh, they have Rodney Ackland's Absolute Hell, which I saw and remember as being amazing! It's Ackland's de-censored version of his play The Pink Room, from 1952; in 1988, a few years before his death, he re-wrote it to make explicit all the stuff he'd had to bury to get past the censors (it's a very queer play).
So it's fascinating because it's absolutely a work of the 1950s but saying out loud all of the things that could only be said in code.
Also it contains a passage that has spoken to me all my life:
"Well, I've always, ever since I was a child, felt it was so 'rude', so absolutely unbelievable and sort of surrealist, for two people not of the same sex to have sex together that I must say it does give me a really rather terrific and most horribly, I'm afraid, perverted -- kind of thrill."
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I send kindly thoughts to your lungs.
And hugs to you. P.
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< hugs >
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That YouTube channel looks amazing.
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