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tours Insomnia X
Michael Curran
Insomnia X

Relax. Nothing but the heavens above you!
Now an old man speaks,

"That makes me one hundred and one years old and five months” followed by the voice of a child, “I wasn't born yesterday, y' know!"

We have happened upon the rural idyll of Andrew Kotting's Hoi Polloi, a place suggesting timelessness, even a sense of immortality. There are crickets and grasshoppers and cornflowers here. It seems perhaps one never has to leave. We hear a woman say:

"I haven't been out of the house but once in twenty three years!"

A man enquires :

"But don't you want to get out and see the world?"

There is no inclination to travel at all. This is the land where one grows old in order to become young again, where all the journeys necessary are found and made.

M is for mother who loves you so much.

So many worlds encapsulated here, in a flurry of postcards, in birdsongs, dreams and in this A to Z. Just throw a dart on the map. Open the page at random: the underbelly of a Faberge egg, across the dappled fur of a little deer, through the eye of a needle or upon a merry-go-round of weak metaphors, spinning into seasickness.

Wish You Weren't Here?
Still from Hoi Polloi by Andrew Kötting, 1990
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