Things to look at in my new room; a pile of October acquisitions: 5 Oxfam purchases, 1 Age Concern and 1 extravagantly full price; 2 borrowed, 1 a present. Walking along kicking leaves, reading with cold hands.

From the erotic stories I have liked best Mitsou (Colette) and Marcelle (Simone de Beauvoir, one of her earliest stories of which she wrote ‘I had fun drawing a picture of piety gradually shading off into shameless appetite.’). And also the Katherine Mansfield, Leves Amores, though liking Katherine Mansfield is nothing new. Edith Wharton’s My Little Girl was almost ridiculous (penis analogies include ‘muscular trunk’, ‘strong fiery muscle’, ‘third hand’). Highlight of Poe is so far The Man of the Crowd. Too many good ee cummings poems to mention, I read half of them in bed this morning, but I have just flicked though again and landed on this one which I feel is speaking the right language for the present moment:

may my heart always be open to little
birds who are the secrets of living
whatever they sing is better than to know
and if men should not hear them men are old

may my mind stroll about hungry
and fearless and thirsty and supple
and even if it’s sunday may i be wrong
for whenever men are right they are not young

and may myself do nothing usefully
and love yourself so more than truly
there’s never been quite such a fool who could fail
pulling all the sky over him with one smile

                                                                                            — ee cummings

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