Wednesday, 28 December 2016

Hunting...for Turkish Bread

Image: Author's own, taken in Bushwick (Brooklyn) in May 2016
It is a hot day in Sydney
and I am swimming in
literature and gentrification.

I read A Little Life
about twenty-something artists, slumming it in an apartment in Manhattan.

And picture novelist Hari Kunzru
in East London, not playing at authenticity
yet partial to nice raclette.

Then I recall summer conversations
with a Sydney undertone, discussing
renovations and rentals.

Debating first homes and investments
in the same breath as veganism
and climate change, over piccolos.

I go hunting for bread for a Marrickville
picnic, and decide it has to be Turkish
preferably not store-bought.