{"type":"rich","version":"1.0","provider_name":"Transistor","provider_url":"https://transistor.fm","author_name":"The Disappearance Diaries of an Apprentice Hermit","title":"The House We Share: Season 8 - 1998-2001.","html":"","width":"100%","height":180,"duration":2616,"description":"1   Birch      The birch boughs  do not stir or sigh  though the world  is spinning.     Oxford, March 1998        2  Here Comes The Spring I’d Stop     Here comes the spring  I’d stop,  the buds  I’d freeze  before they fleck  the hedgerows to a haze of green;   here comesthe shining grass,the bulbs,the early blossom,the tips of growthswelling unstoppablyon the ends of brancheseverywhere; this is the springI’d halt, returning time to a timebefore we knewyou were to die,so we could play those daysover again,painless and manageable,discreet carriers of a worldwe could understand,and of a god still one of love. England, March 1998  I’m Not The Exile You Know I am not the exileyou know,thrown upby a distant coup, thrown offby a war,thrown outby a sudden dictator, yet my countryhas vanished too, its room reclaimedfrom far away, its colours no clearerthan I can keep them, its daily patterns tracedbehind each day. Oxford, May 1998  With Micky Tonightthe air is dark and smooth;we sitrecovering,the room muffled,cooledby an air-conditioner; and how I need you,your still arms,your sound,your smell,and tonight,especially, your love, your fingersbrushing my foreheadlightly,brushing it, bringing backa lost fortressamidst the pain. Aswan, April 1998   Daylight Nowthe summerdoes not wait, will not wait, cannot; nothing stopsthe lightflooding ahead, flushing outthe end of day London, May 1998  How Do I Make You Laugh How do I make you laughwhen the bad newswill ever come, when you tell methat she fell on the half-step, or could not sleep, or slept too much;  how do I make you laughwhen you tell meshe could not eat, that it is harder to find the airto make the wordsshe wants to say; that the machines have side effects,that now the drugs do nothing, that she is dying, fully awake,in greatest need, yet always – always – as she is: how do I make you laugh then,when our world is broken? Oxford, May 1998  Being There Sometimes this early summerhas tricked me out of grief,fetching me...","thumbnail_url":"https://img.transistorcdn.com/y_cYTZLY_554KjVwlUcuZrlxRcBDrk22LfvZgAeolVg/rs:fill:0:0:1/w:400/h:400/q:60/mb:500000/aHR0cHM6Ly9pbWct/dXBsb2FkLXByb2R1/Y3Rpb24udHJhbnNp/c3Rvci5mbS9iZmRk/MTYzM2EzNjc5ODZl/M2M4MGEzZGY1MzNm/NGU1YS5wbmc.webp","thumbnail_width":300,"thumbnail_height":300}