In the Quaker Hotel by Helen Tookey Translation ’ – Sarala Estruch

’ – Sarala Estruch

Saffron Jack has never fitted in wherever he’s been

Don't you wish the road of excess

Gaga Nakhutsrishvili

In the Quaker Hotel by Helen Tookey Translation ’ – Sarala EstruchIn the title poem, the speaker sits at the window of a small hotel room. The room is a holding zone, a temporary stopping place between memory and possibility. In the Quaker Hotel is full of questions about the world. Rooted in nature, the poems are fearful for it. They move out through identifiable landscapes (Merseyside, north Wales, Nova Scotia, southern France) to off kilter, tilted places beyond our immediate reality. We are temporary guests in