Listen

I love encountering writing on the page — letting it seep in and take on colour and texture in my own head.

But it works differently when spoken. The words land in another way. The rhythm changes. The weight changes.

This is another way into it.

They begin below.

The Autumn Stones
Antun Scurla
Death's Body
Antun Scurla
The Letter
Antun Scurla
Sing it to the Wind
Antun Scurla
The Sun Will Shine Again
Antun Scurla
Lint
Antun Scurla