Having fled 42-degree heat in Extremadura, I've encountered sweltering Sussex. Different heats, different ways of dealing with them (few two-hour siestas are to be had in Blighty!) and different ways of expressing them.
For example, Larkin's "Long lion days" could only be about a British heat wave: summer days don't start with a "white haze" over in Spain. The light in both countries varies dramatically in tone, although you could argue the "hammer of heat" has a similar effect!
It might seem odd that, not having eaten meat since 1982, I should become
obsessed with something so very meaty, but Siobhán Campbell’s poem ‘Rump’
in the ...
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