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COPYRIGHT
From the reviews of Vulgar Things:
DEDICATION
MAYBE SOMEONE IS WONDERING JUST WHAT I’M DOING HERE
an office
lunch hour
everything looks as it should
into a room
petty dramas
some sort of theatre
the phone call
FRIDAY
recollections
the island
being here makes perfect sense
because there’s nothing else to do
such a long time
caravan 27
SATURDAY
along the sea wall
eating in silence
into the depths
vulgar things
feel like walking
the stick
towards the sea
box 27
a kind of shuffle
floating in space
black screen
SUNDAY
the same girl
suburban drabness
falling
afternoon drinking
toledo road
language is such a mess
blackening
rerum vulgarium fragmenta
MONDAY
all colliding
stranded
signalling
a photographic list of dancers
painting the sky
being wrong
if you want anything
ejected and abandoned
something snaps
short circuit
you must have found something
haunting
some fucking present
path of saturn
TUESDAY
scene/image
camouflage
it’s a short chapter
a different narrative of the same thing
cliché
the underworld
failing light
pointless
it has to be her
they kiss
waxy with sweat
looming windows
artificial light flickers
blank space between the scenes
he won’t bite
part of the furniture
aggressive behaviour
it all happens quickly
just the silence
we understand that, sir
i tell you
WEDNESDAY
first train
another box
it feels wrong
motionless
drift along with them
whispers
no sense at all
pushing against us
looping at intervals
three thousand eight hundred
something hits
fishing
to the ground
random drawers
it stops
bags and boxes
it all becomes visible
need to move closer
i know this won’t last
THURSDAY
some kind of happiness
the voices float by
i had it in me
moving away from me
nothing can be deciphered
speak quietly
is it all finished?
it doesn’t feel like an ending
BACK IN THE NIGHT I LAY DOWN BY YOUR FIRESIDE
twinkling, silent, beautiful
title page
beacons all around me
some grand prologue
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
About the Author
ABOUT THE PUBLISHER
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