My Dear Ms. Sessum,

Will you quit blogging such nice things about me …

How much easier to give than to forkin’ receive …

Most people never get out from under the rainshadow of their parents’ gaze …

It’s hard turf, hard to chart, hard to navigate. No maps. Lots of dark matter. A black hole or two, to marry.

Fate would bring a sweet soul into my life …

That awful noise you hear is some rusted hinge inside. Damned Fate, prying it open again.

Yours Truly,
Zo

Lovely piece in the Washington Post the other day about Paul, his new oratio is it, and of course the writing trailed off into all else that has happened and is happening—then gathered on this marvellous ending note, this opening up into the night but also into what must be, still, a wonderful heart. An antic moment that seemed very much of the Beatles as they were, and perhaps part of McCartney’s genius is that this has never changed. I would imagine so. Read the rest of this entry »