le Duc de Baroque

April 6, 1928-November 20, 2007

I've done all the things today I probably shouldn't: I went for lunch, as planned, with a friend; I met someone else for a much-needed - as it seemed - drink in town, and got home way too late to a stony-faced Mlle B, who said at the door, "You took your time!" though it hardly seemed to me that I had. Well, I have no idea what I'm doing. I just have to look for a flight.

I said to Mama Baroque this morning, when she rang me (at 5am her time, on my mobile; I barely needed to pick up the call, really), "I am going into denial NOW, and I am not coming out till I am on the plane." She said to me, "That's FINE. Just get your sister to let me know when you're coming." I said, "I said, Ma, that I'm going into denial, not hiding: I will call you."

And ever since then I have felt as if I were drunk: up until someone took me into Le Beaujolais in Litchfield St, and plied me with wine, whereupon I felt sober, up until it all went out of hand.

Ain't it always the way. The whole world's insane. I've noticed a tendency to be very short with everyone today, and if you are one of those people then I apologise.

Oh and I am reading tomorrow night, at the Poetry Cafe, at 22 Betterton St WC2, if any regular readers feel like coming along.


















Sis tells me It's a lucky thing I wasn't there today when they went to the funeral home. The guy there asked them what they would want done with the "cremains." When she told this to my brother on the phone later, he said, "how about a crebox?"

Then the guy in the funeral home says something like, "well, that's enough of that, why don't we talk about merchandise..." (or something) - and my nephew leans over and says to Sis, "do they do commemorative mugs?"