I think sometimes of the geography of London,
inn muddy 9th century, and more importantly,
in the 19th century, with its modern veins and arteries
of people, money, goods, water, gas, telegraphs, church bells.
and yet the odd angles, following the Thames or the whim
of an ancient mythology.
programming a law, in various ministerial buildings,
pontificating, yet ruminating of
the psychogeography of bricks, urban exploring,
various pubs where legal opinions can be
discussed over ale and wood paneling.
a powdered wig
the powdered man