I felt far more able to write about this place
as a tourist than I do as a resident.
I mean, the way Peter Riley can write about
Llŷn, for example – even though he writes
here as a ‘tourist’
I feel, in a cosmological sense, like one of
those, carrying a blackboard on my back, seen
in an Iranian movie – a kind of displaced
though I sense, at this stage
of history, we have all become ‘migrants’.
to place a marble slab, just so
uphill, behind the residence
(as onion and yellow capsicum fry in the shabby kitchen)