(from ‘Such A Long Way’)
“Somewhere in the world it is spring, a surplus
at the border, a season not earned. Look
for me in the damp crevices of summer, I
have beaten out my time in gold paint and tin.”
This is Cook’s second work and she has created little slices of enduring pieces that will rock you, haunt you, taste you. Because the narrative is at times experimental, this is not a book I could read in one sitting.