Lanny: Max Porter reads from his new novel


we’re in the woods given a choice Lannie
will always choose the woods I’ve told him about the weird Willis sisters
growing devil rabbits in their greenhouses to spy on us he’s come right
back at me with a story about forests knowing if a person’s good or bad a
decent human they’ll keep alive guiding them to water and food a bad person
they’ll kill in a day all forces of the forest united against the impure
impostor could say the same about a big city I say I’m scratching away in my new
book nice fineliner bit of hatching enjoying being wrapped
up in my coat drawing the beech trees now little bellybuttons could be hills
from above could be warts I’m trying to get Lani to enjoy using a pen not being
able to rub out he’s a fanatic for rubbing out I’m trying to show him how
you can keep on building use the dark wrestler thing back if you’ve taken a
wrong turn I want him to enjoy making marks I want him to let his wrist go a
little bit where is he Lani his sketchbook sits open next to me
there’s a nervous charge in the air something guilty like when you meet a
deer in the wood and the deer disappears in you’re left standing there all
clumping human noise and there’s shame in that god I’ve lost him where is he
Lani then from the way up above me there are bees up here he is fifty foot high
clambering around the crown of a vast chestnut foreshortened like a painted
trompe l’oeil angel in the rigging of the wood above him I can see a sparrow
hawk pinned to the ultramarine stay there and hold on tight little nut I
want to draw you

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