Mags Webster

Stasis at Oxford 130

Today is a good day to die in a freak garden accident: fall back onto the spikes of a giant agave, say, & expire in its healing embrace. I’m 12,000 miles adrift from what I used to call home, mainlining …

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All through the flight you’ve had Cavafy playing in your mind. Is it true that arriving here is what you’re destined for? Call it homing rather than homecoming, for once the airport doors seal the vacuum of miles and time, …

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Recovered Memory

Spur of slipped serif a jolt of brittle outside, in a rasp, a kenning of a not- given-shape, a noise like grass and trees unmouthed, long water ripening, wind-flutes of bamboo, some kind of this-ness lost, a seed of many …

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