40 years ago today, Philip Larkin died. He wrote my favourite poem - Days

I spent last night in the sweatiest room in the world after driving from Cardiff to London, and then drove back again. I wouldn’t change one stupid decision for another five years of life.

This story contains this sentence which is going to rattle around my head making me feel sick for a good long while.

This in conjunction with ‘you say the whole world’s ending, honey, it already did’

I first saw this in the men’s room of a bar in Portland in 2017, and it’s a sentiment which is as true today than it was then.

This was the third in my triptych

I am large, I contain multitudes

Oh, how about that?

Going for subtlety in his appointments then is he

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