This Porch

So here are the images of 'This Porch'. It's finally a book that brings together the three episodes: Sleeping On Front Porches, Standing On Front Porches and Swinging on Front Porches.
It measures 140 x 140 mm. Consists of 15 individual concertinas made up of 4 panels each bound together with Japanese stab binding. The paper is Newsprint 48 gsm which is great to work with when using the typewriter as each marking kisses the paper just enough to leave an indent on the page without stamping all the way through.
With regards to bookmaking, I'm not happy with the following -
The last two stitches of binding on the back cover are not in line.
I should have invested in an awl or maybe just a push pin to make neater holes to feed the thread through as the binding can sometimes be seen creeping out of the spine.
I think I should have prepared cover boards instead of using Newsprint paper for the front and back covers- the stitching and embroidery has resulted in some curling and messy holes.
Plus, there is a spelling mistake.


Episode One: Sleeping On Front Porches (Revised)

I pull in at 2.30
From Gate 6
Seat 37 D
Passenger baggage must not contain radioactive material.

Up Route 116. South Mandelle Hall.
Back to school. Ring the bell. Walking blues.
Past Lower Lake nothing stirs
Except lampost flicker outside Village Commons.

12.00 An art museum lunch
'Hetch Hetchy Canyon' stimulates inquisitive looking
Lie on Skinner Green with The Bostonians set to Playlist one.
Next week we’ll talk injustice in Taxi!

We will stand in the place of American revolutionaries
But do nothing. Instead "Where you guys heading?"
Repeated by sandy boys with the promise

That one day out in the rain we’ll see change.

Minuteman Express. Amherst Bookshop
To be [re] born in Dickinson's doorway.
Hold hands with an Amherstian girl talk of lacklustre education
And friends that we hardly know.

1.30 and Em is in Northampton
Ice-cream with a Rock n' Roll twist. Fools fall in love over american pie
Outside the winters are cold and the summers are over. Soon.
So today and always I carry my clear plastic umbrella.

To the greenhouse for a slice of your soil,

To the Bookmill for a taste of your choco-beer,
To Skinner Mountain for a picnic on a cliff face,
To Hangers for a short skirt, sticky chicken and chardonnay.

Yours is the first face that I saw.
Back to hers – dozy lighting misty drinks
My mac slowly endures intoxication.
Walk with me Suzy Lee.

11.20 Lit up snowmen mark your door.

We're here to live and swing on front porches
I don't know you
But people we like

Show and tell your liquid beats froth out
The basement notes casual contradiction:

Seeing everything
But noticing nothing.

I change in the back of your truck

And end up asleep on your porch.