MEET YOU AT THE M11:
It started at a single yellow line on Essex Road as we
walked towards the sea. You found me sitting on a bench
with a tiny plaque remembering Christine 1959. A bower
of Ivy, a symphony of traffic to celebrate our leaving.
Meet me where the houses cover themselves in Artex &
pebble dash each other’s walls. Where every man mechanics
slip under front garden cars.
You walk past in a leopard scarf & looks – a poodle
on a leash in boots.
(K)
Karl Hyde 
I think I am beginning to understand your lyrical process a little better. I’ve been viewing pictures of Essex of late, getting a broader view of the area. I’m terribly fascinated by the etymology of UK place names, trying to imagine how proper names merged into a geographic names. “Language is a virus.” Of course, in America, the number of places with proper names that originate from the Indian names of the same area are quite numerous. Massachusetts, Manhattan, Illinois and many others. An interactive map with Native American places that survive today. (via: NationalGeographic http://tinyurl.com/djnjto
) It fascinates me how geographic place names are layered on top of each other like the architecture of Florence. I think of place names as being large structures into which fly throughs can happen, like zooming into their origins. I have so much to learn about UK.
I always hear a cacophonous symphony of traffic to celebrate my leaving this plane nightly for the world of sleep, yet it’s strangely soothing.
Looking over the Margin Wall
– said Todd Hewlin today, while he explained The New Rules Of Tech
Day starts with a toilet and ends with a sink…with life changing in between.