Pincer movement

My huge thanks to all that came to Rogue Strands 3 on Tuesday evening. Rebecca Farmer, Paul Stephenson, Suzanna Fitzpatrick, Christopher Horton , Matthew Stewart and me all read brilliantly. My thanks to all the readers, the crowd, the staff at The Devereux and Matt at the Three Hounds for the loan of the PA.

I was really pleased with the event, I was really pleased with the Arsenal result that was happening at the same time. I was kind of ooo with the number of people there until it halved at half time (off the reading, not the football), but that was, I think, our fault for starting too late. Next time we will start earlier to allow for this.

In my rush to be happy about Pear Rust going up at CBTR last week I totally forgot to mention how happy I was about a poem being accepted by Scintilla. Not sure when it’s out, but it’s nice to see poems that pre-date CtD finding homes, and I’m sure I’ll go back to some for whatever the next book is, but the next phase is finding homes for new ones. Actually, the next phase is writing some new ones, and yesterday may have moved things on.

An actual draft has appeared. It’s the most miserable thing I’ve ever written, but hey ho. I started something else and had the sense too top before it took a turn that wasn’t warranted…Yes, I could have “free-written”,. but it would have been free-written horse shite…No one needs that; least of all whoever has the misfortune to catalogue my archives when I’m gone.

So while there is the high of a new draft to contend with, and the post-gig giddiness, the whole thing was balanced out with bad news. A thing I’d coveted for a while didn’t come to pass. I think I mentioned the Declan the crab joke a few posts ago. Well, a few days later I saw a competition to send in your best crab joke to the Crab Museum. I duly sent in the joke (NB not my joke…). Sadly, this week I got the sad news it had not won.

The joke, in case you want it goes like this (NB much better in the pub and it can be stretched out with hand movements, pauses for beer, ad libs – like poetry readings)

Declan the humble crab and Kate the Lobster Princess were madly,deeply and passionately in love. For months they enjoyed an idyllic relationship until one day Kate scuttled over to Declan in tears.

“We can’t see each other anymore…” she sobbed. “Why?” gasped Declan. “Daddy says that crabs are too common”, she wailed. “He claims you are a mere crab and a poor one at that and crabs are the lowest class of crustacean… and that no daughter of his will marry someone who can only walk sideways.”

Declan was shattered and scuttled sideways away into the darkness and began to drink himself into a filthy state of aquatic oblivion. That night the great Lobster ball was taking place. Lobsters came from far and wide, dancing and merry making, but the Lobster Princess refused to join in, choosing instead to sit by her father’s side, inconsolable.

Suddenly the doors burst open, and Declan the crab strode in! The Lobsters all stopped their dancing, the Princess gasped and the King Lobster rose from his throne. Slowly, painstakingly, Declan the crab made his way across the Floor….and all could see that he was walking, not sideways, but FORWARDS!!!! One crab claw after another!

Step by step he made his approach towards the throne, until he finally looked King Lobster in the eye. There was a deadly hush. Finally, Declan spoke…….

“Fuck me, I’m pissed”

Anyhoo, earlier in the week I saw the following picture on someone’s Facebook account

It reminded me of my own poem, Icebergs (Scroll down a bit). This in turn reminded me that I am way behind on Mark’s excellent Suburbia poems…Which in turn reminded me I am way behind on recent online mags like Bad Lilies, so I’ll stop here and go and read some of them.

Songs that seems appropriate

808 State, Crab Claw

Cate Le Bon, Crab Day

THE LAST Cough WEEKS IN STATS

HEALTH STATS
17K running. All running. Knee improving! Runs have been pain free. Early days, but encouraging..Just need to get my lung capacity up. Second 10K since October today + 7 yesterday. Weather and work, etc curtailed more this week
0 x work outs to build some core strength. Have ordered some weights. I shall be buff (manilla)
1 days without cigarettes…
0 days since drinking
1 bouts of insomnia

LIFE STATS
1 dull training session for work
1 reading in town with excellent people
1 ice cream
1 gig – Northern Soul Orchestrated

POET STATS
0 loose ideas/articles gathered:
0 poem finished:
3 poem worked on: CIA Handbook, Faith, Mundane Halloween
0 poems committed to the reject pile
Submissions:
Acceptances:
Longlisting:
1 reading at: The Devereux
0 reading attended:
Rejections:
19 poems are currently out for submission. 1 simultaneous sub
108 Published poems (including what’s in the book)
0 book sold
3 poems written and finished this year
1 batch out for 52 weeks…How long will we wait…?

REVIEWS
0 review finished:
0 reviews started:
0 review submitted:
2 reviews to write:

READ/SEEN/HEARD/ETC

Music
r= Radio, A = Audiobook, P=Podcast. The rest is music
The Archers (p)
Amy Key: Arrangements in Blue (a)
Okay Temiz/Islandman: Direct to Disc Sessions
Mick Head & Red Elastic Band: Dear Scott, Adios Señor Pussycat, Artorius Revisited
Taylor Swift: Tortured Poets Department
Gabor Szabo: The Sorcerer
James McMahon Podcast: John Bramwell
The Archers
Pearl Jam: Dark Matter
Dropsonde Playlist
John Branwell: Light Fantastic
 My Morning Jacket: OBH Day 3, April 24
Manic Street Preachers: Life Blood, Ultra Vivid Lament (Annual attempt to like them again. Still not working)
A Certain Ratio: It All Comes Down To This
Cats and Cats and Cats: Sweet Drunk Everyone
Black Moth Super Rainbow: Start A People
Pet Shop Boys; Nonetheless
Six Organs of Admittance: Time is Glass
Blueboy: A Last thing To Say
Vent414: ST
 Explosions In the Sky: End
Oren Ambarchi, Johan Berthling, Andreas Werliin: Ghosted I, Ghosted II
The Orioles: Disco Volador
Oren Ambarchi: Shebang
 Lee Morgan: City Lights
Black Belt Eagle Scout: The Land, The Water, The Sky
Spuds Vs Arsenal  (r)
Josh Ritter: XX