& David, yes (re McD), I see, sorry, right
>back in the hunny pot with me, then
I was struck by his upset at the poet making up language he didn't have;
where does that leave Spenser?
Indeed, in the dog-house one assumes, Lawrence.
I was in a condition of Japanese eyebrows at his grudgingly praising
description of 'such as A Drunk Man Looks at a Thistle' as 'engaging little
oddities' (wish I could write 'little oddities' like that) and taken aback
by 'if poetry cannot be wrung from the language Scotsmen speak then no
amount of nostalgic pedantry' can succeed. Phew!
A Chide's Alphabet
Painting Without Numbers