The leaping light for your delight discovers,
Stand stable here
And silent be,
That through the channels of the ear
May wander like a river
The swaying sound of the sea.
This is where Selwyn’ll be next week; London, from 11th to 16th April, whilst Bell End purrs under the guardianship of Vincent et amis, over for a week from Paris. How cosmopolitan we have become. It’s the Roaring 20’s, except in the Suety 40’s. It’s Anaïs Nin with cellulite.
Total Bellender, Marc Hundley, reprises his rib-tickling success with Joan Baez is Alive at Team Gallery in New York last autumn; on this occasion, with Matt Connors at Herald Street in London. Selwyn will be viewing both of their privates with his trusty Petzl on April 14th (although I’m not sure how private said privates will be, considering he’s invited half the cast of Mamma Mia!, along with Henrik Knudsen, Olivia Beasley, Paul Bromley, David, Jonathan and Tom Willis, Piers Van Til, Julia Crouch, the Art Departments of The Guardian, Observer and Times, and his erstwhile milkman, Wasim). It’s all terribly exciting and glamorous and East End urban, in a kind of pearly-queen-meets-horrible-70’s-housing-meets-smelly-doner-kebab-meets-APC-new-standards kind of way. I’m almost wetting my underpants simply writing about it.
For anybody who is passing (by/out/gas) Selwyn will be ensconced in the Town Hall Hotel, in chicly-dreadful Bethnal Green, and will be receiving supplicants bearing gifts. In a sense, he will be like the infant baby Jesus. Pink, lardy, with inverted nipples, meanly wrapped in swaddling clothes and in a manger laid.
He hopes to see you there. Mwah! Mwah!