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.
Michael Stipend..Only kidding, it’s meMe as Roadie
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) 1days 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…?
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
Read Will Burns: Natural Burial Ground Rory Waterman: Come Here To This Gate
Watched Dexter Perry Mason Everton V Liverpool Shōgun Anatomy of a Fall
Ordered/Bought Spelt Sarah Westcott: Pond Vik Pickup: Tooth Fairy Will Burns: Country Music New trainers
Congratulations to anyone that is still running or has finished the London Marathon today. I know of at least one poet doing it (Bravo to the excellent Sarah Westcott),and a few friends from work, etc…I’ve put my name in the ballot again for the umpteenth year running (Not sure how many years running—well, not running as it would seem, but let’s say consecutively) and I’m hopeful this time round as it falls on my birthday next year. What a way to spend it.
Putting in for the marathon appears to be very much like subbing to poetry magazines (FUCKING HELL, MAT, TALK ABOUT A HANDBRAKE TURN)….You keep trying until you get there, or you get too old and give up (other options are available). It’s certainly felt like that on some occasions; there are a few magazines that I’m determined to get a poem (at least one) in, but keep getting knocked back/declined/rejected/not fitting at this time (delete as applicable). And until recently there were a couple that I was on the verge of giving up on, but because I’m an obstinate sod sometimes I’ve decided to keep going… After all, I nearly gave up on The Frogmore Papers and then made it
One of those magazines is The North, another is Butcher’s Dog. I’ve come close with the Dog recently, long-listed for, I think, the last two issues, so perhaps I should take that as encouraging. No, we are not visiting the recent fandango online about that—no one involved covered themselves in glory there, on either side, IMHO. Suffice to say though that I’ve not paid my £3 to find out which poem made the list because I’m not sure it matters massively. However, I think I’ve missed my chance now, so hey ho. I’ll wait and buy the mag when it becomes available instead.
There are several others on my wishlist, but sad to see one of them, Bath Magg, call it a day this week. Oh yes, while we’re here, happy birthday to the ace folks of Atrium.
Is it pushing the bounds of the marathon/poetry metaphor to suggest running a mag is like running a marathon? I suspect you say never again just before sending the printers/crossing the finish line, and then a few days later….Perhaps not. Not for me to say.
Switching, if I may, from long distance to more of a sprint…This week saw my fastest ever acceptance and appearance, and from somewhere I’d not submitted to before. A few weeks ago I entered a competition via the Caught By The River newsletter. For those unaware, CTBR describes itself as
“Caught by the River is an arts/nature/culture clash which lives at caughtbytheriver.net. It began as an idea, a vision and a daydream shared between friends one languid bankside spring afternoon.
Conceived as an online meeting place for pursuits of a distinctly non-digital variety — walking, fishing, looking, thinking, birdsong and beer, adventure and poetry; life’s small pleasures, in all their many flavours — it was, and still is, about stepping out of daily routines to re-engage with nature. Finding new rhythms. Being.
Now in its thirteenth year, Caught by the River is ever-morphing, widening its tastes and pool of contributors. The site – and its various offshoots, including gigs, festival stages and the Rivertones record label – host work in many forms and flavours, be it of a musical, poetic, creative non-fictional, photographic or illustrative description, or otherwise.“
The competition was to win a copy of Will Burns’ latest collection, Natural Burial Ground. I only went and bloody won it, didn’t I…When CBTR’s editor got in touch for for my address I decided to go for it and ask if they accepted subs. Nothing on the website suggests they do, but a list of luminary names like Emily Hasler, Lavinia Greenlaw, Will Burns, etc made me think I wanted to be among that, so imagine my shock when the editor said yes. I wasn’t sure what I had to offer that would fit the vibe (always read the magazine first to see if your work will fit, as the advice goes), but managed to rustle up 3 poems that could work (if I squinted) and sent them in on Friday morning. Three hours later I had a response saying yes, can we have Pear Rust and it will be published tomorrow (which is now yesterday at the time of writing).
Now, I am lucky in the sense that they had an opening and that was unusual, but I don’t care. I will take it. The poem was at one point a candidate for CtD, but fell by the wayside as it wasn’t ready/didn’t quite fit, although I see it as being at the other end of the road to Settling (old version, but up at London Grip. Buy the book for the new version, yeah….) which did make it.
It makes a bit of a mockery of the poems that have now been out for 51 weeks, but that’s for another magazine I really want get into, so I’ll stay patient…
This week I finally finished reading my copy of the Selected Poems of John Ashberry, I’ve been reading it on and off for several years now. He’s one of the poets that I really want to like, I do like sometimes and other times I just feel too dim to understand. Perhaps, I need to dig deeper and put in more effort, perhaps it’s the emperors new clothes, perhaps it’s somewhere in the middle.
I got the end of a poem like ‘Or In My Throat’ and absolutely felt the last two words as an accusation.
To the poet as a basement quilt, but perhaps To some reader a latticework of regrets, through which You can see the funny street, with the ends of cars and the dust, The thing we always forget to put in. For him
The two ends were the same except that he was in one Looking at the other, and all his grief stemmed from that: There was no way of appreciating anything else, how polite People were for instance, and the dream, reversed, became
A swift nightmare of starlight on frozen puddles in some Dread waste. Yet you always hear How they are coming along. Someone always has a letter From one of them, asking to be remembered to the boys, and all.
That’s why I quit and took up writing poetry instead. It’s clean, it’s relaxing, it doesn’t squirt juice all over Something you were certain of a minute ago and now your own face Is a stranger and no one can tell you it’s true. Hey, stupid!
***Haven’t got permission, sorry John. Don’t sue me. Taken from Selected Poems, John Ashberry, Penguin Poets, 1994.
I sort of get this poem, I feel it as being true, but don’t ask me to tell you what is happening. I wonder, perhaps, if the poem is about writing poems, about feelings that need to come out…I don’t know. I like it, I just can’t say why. But then fuck it, I’m not doing an MA or whatever and this isn’t a review, I don’t have to.
However, this review of Ashberry’s Shadow Train, the collection the above is taken from, seems to nail it for me “The book consists of 50 poems, each 16 lines, four quatrains, unrhymed but variously linked. Of these 800 lines, I estimate that I can make sense of about 500; or, to put it more delicately, I find negotiable meaning in 500. But I believe the unforthcoming remainder is somehow germane to Mr. Ashbery’s poetry as a whole, part of his enterprise, though it defeats me in every local sense.“
Christ, this post is becoming something of a feat of endurance…Don’t panic, the final straight is just round the corner.
While, we’re speaking of endurance events, it would be remiss of me if I didn’t remind you that I am reading on Tuesday 23rd at The Devereux alongside Suzanna Fitzpatrick, Rebecca Farmer, Paul Stephenson, Christopher Horton and that Stewart bloke (can’t shift him, no matter how much I try). See you there. I can’t guarantee Taylor Swift won’t be there to really see some tortured poets.
Finally, I really enjoyed Amy Key’s recent newsletter, ‘Everything I write is a poem‘. It makes me feel better about not writing as much at present (ironic, I know, given all the guff above). Plenty to think about as well around calling myself a writer or a poet. I’ve only just got comfortable with ‘Poet’, do I want to change, do I need to, do I care? Not sure. Anyhoo, time to stop.
Have two songs this week. As well know, the aforementioned Ms Swift put an album out this week called The Tortured Poets Department. I’ve not heard it yet, but I am led to believe she makes references to The Blue Nile on it. I was introduced the their second album, Hats, in the early 90s* by my dear friend Simon Gray. Well, I say introduced…we used to browse his CD collection and tape things while he was at the pub (if we weren’t there with him and his lovely wife, Lol). Hats stood out from a lot of the other stuff as it was smoother, it wasn’t The Clash, The Pixies, Bowie, Lou Reed, Otis Redding, etc.
*Fuck, just realised it was probably when TayTay was born…
I didn’t know what to make of it (much like Ashberry) as my ears and palate hadn’t developed enough (I was a teenager, FFS), but I knew I loved it. A recording of a Radio 1 concert sealed the deal, and I went in search of more music by them. There isn’t much, they aren’t/weren’t the most prolific, but get all 4 albums and Paul Buchanan’s solo album, Mid Air…
And that’s where I’ll stop….See you next Tuesday.
Songs that seems appropriate
The Blue Nile and Ricki Lee Jones, Easter Parade. This is only a b side (12″ of Headlights on the Parade), but my god…it gets a full five Mats. (Must remember to write about the Mat Scale, a concept I’ve nicked from my mate, Simon and his Simon Scale)
The Blue Nile, The Downtown Lights
THE LAST **Cough** WEEKS IN STATS
HEALTH STATS 35K running. All running. Knee improving! Runs have been pain free. Early days, but encouraging..Just need to get my lung capacity up. First 10K since October today. 0 x work outs to build some core strength, fix knee knack and sort my back out 1days without cigarettes… 2 days since drinking 2 bouts of insomnia
LIFE STATS 1 trip to Lisbon 7 pastel de nata 1 delayed flight 1 late night/Early morning in Oxford Several old mates seen for the first time in years 2 mate’s partners met for the first time 1 long traffic delay 1 return to work 1 trip to see our old neighbours 1 broken pressure washer (just after I’d written the word bum on the front path) 1 fence and back gate repaired 1 impromptu afternoon off work 2 nights on the pop with mates
POET STATS 0 loose ideas/articles gathered: 0 poem finished: 0 poem worked on: 0 poems committed to the reject pile Submissions: Poetry Ireland, Poetry London, Stand, Caught By The River Acceptances: Caught By the River, Scintilla Longlisting: Butcher’s Dog 0 reading at: 0 reading attended: Broken Sleep Launch Rejections: Black Iris 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 51 weeks…Oooh, will we make a year???
Music r= Radio, A = Audiobook, P=Podcast. The rest is music The Archers (p) Any Key: Arrangements in Blue (a) Ride: Interplay Dropsonde Playlist The Doors; Light My Fire, The Soft Parade, Strange Days Modest Mouse: Good news For People That Like Bad News My Morning Jacket: OBH, Day 1 04/04/24, The Waterfall II, Z, The Tennessee Fire, OBH Day 2 05/04/24 Tad: God’s Balls Charles Lloyd: Nirvana Waxahachee: Tiger’s Blood Marika Hackman: Big Sigh Julia Holter: Something in the Room She Moves Jane Weaver: Love In Constant Spectacle Catrin Finch: Tides The Pernice Brothers: Who Will You Believe Therapy?: Suicide Pact—You First, Infernal Love Dog Unit: At Home Blindboy Podcast: Whales wearing a salmon as a hat (p) James McMahon: Will Sergeant (p), Olly Knights The Hold Steady: The Death of the Punchline Laura Veirs: Live Album The Reds, Pinks and Purples: Unwishing Well Charlie Pyne Quartet: Nature Is A Mother English Teacher: This Could be Texas Planet Poetry: Roy McFarlane (p) Buffalo Tom: Sleepy Eyed Ned’s Atomic Dustbin: Reunited: 21 Years 21 Songs Arsenal Vs Aston Villa Poltergeist: Your Mind Is A Box Matthew Halsall: Into Forever REM: Accelerate, Around the Sun The Afghan Whigs: Do To The Beast, How Do You Burn, In Spades Turin Brakes: Wide-Eyed Nowhere, Dark On Fire, Ether Song, Invisible Storm, Lost Property, The Optimist The Orchids: Thamaturgy Pearl Jam: Dark Matter Oriental Wind: ST
Read Michael Laskey: The Tightrope Wedding Irene Vallejo: Papyrus Louis De Berniere: Light Over Liskeard Victoria Kennefick: Egg/Shell John Ashberry: Selected Poems Rialto: 101 Under The Radar: Latest issue Poetry Scotland; latest issue Poetry Wales: Summer 24 Jo Haslam: On Kiso Road
Watched Man City Vs Arsenal Shōgun Perry Mason Dexter Arsenal Vs Bayern Munich Liverpool Vs Atalanta, West Ham Vs Bayer Leverkusen Traces
Ordered/Bought A book for Flo Rory Waterman: New Katherine Bevis: Flamingo, Butterfly House Pressure washer Patio Grout
Arrived Trousers Mike Bartholomew-Biggs: Identified Flying Objects Mary Gilone: Norfolk Barry Smith: Reeling & Writhing Rory Waterman: Come Here To This Gate Howies Jeans- sent to be repaired Patio Grout Katherine Bevis: Flamingo, Butterfly House
It was all going so well. I’d set myself the challenge of writing a quick post while the cake I am making is in the oven. I just had to finish blending the soup I was making (Turns out I was making the wrong soup according to my wife, but hey ho)….I turned around for a second and then heard the hand-held blender, the jug of unblended soup and the jug of blended soup crashing to the floor I had mopped a few hours ago. I am not ashamed to say that language was used. The wonderful poet (check out his latest at the FRIP) Christopher James described my language as “emergency language” on Friday when I commented on his poem. I like that.
Anyhoo, it’s been a good week for the poetry stuff.
1. Two new poems have gone up at Wild Court. I am pleased to see new work getting out there. And I am very pleased Kimono has found a home. It was written a while back, before CtD, but it wouldn’t fit in. I think it’s possibly one for consideration in terms of the next book, perhaps…there seems to be a seam of work-related poems happening/appearing, so this one could fit, but who knows for now…
Either way, I like reading this one at gigs…More on that anon.
Sticks feels like a bit of a throwback to older material..(NB I like it no less and think it’s very good, but I want to, if possible, move on from the “dad poems”. Incidentally, it was the first anniversary of John Rance dying this week, and I “enjoyed” this Adrian Chiles article. I sent it to one of John’s sons).
I suspect I’ll come back to the theme; it’s almost impossible not to, but it makes sense to me to move on for a bit. Let’s see…After a flurry of poems a few weeks ago things have dried up again, but such is life and the like…
The poems seemed to go down well, and I was especially pleased when my mate Nick said they had been a hit with his Hiking WhatsApp group. If that isn’t diversifying the audience, well…quite frankly…
2. A lovely review of CtD appeared in the latest Frogmore Papers. Sadly, my copy hasn’t turned up yet, but Sarah Barnsley has distilled the book into a few short, but amazing paragraphs. My favourite bit: “Precision is key, but, here, never clinical, from the grief-induced A hatchet is Excalibured/in a chopping block…to the hilarity of a lover’s morning ‘hair’ which offers it’s own tribute to Van Der Graaf…Pardon the pun—this pamphlet is full of riches.
Go, subscribe to Frogmore Papers (and see the review of Matthew’s latest collection too). Go, buy Sarah’s book too.
My thanks to Nell for emailing me photos of the review.
3. I was long-listed for a magazine I’ve been trying to get into for a long time. I’ve seen a few people shouting about their long-listing on the social medias, and they absolutely should. It’s a fine achievement to get this far. I think the mag said they had over 2000 poems in during the subs. I’ve not said anything this time as I’ve been here before…Perhaps I should just be grateful, and I am, and say something. Maybe I’m tempting fate in reverse this time…Maybe it’s Maybelline..
4. I entered a competition to win a copy of Will Burn’s latest book, Natural Burial Ground via the wonderful Caught By The River newsletter. And I only went a blinking won it.
5. My book made it to South Korea, and as such gave me the chance to get reacquainted with one of my oldest friends. He’s been out the for a couple of decades now and we’ve sort of drifted, but this week has seen us chatting via various apps. Time differences make video calls tricky, but we will get round that eventually. It’s his birthday today too… Hopefully he will send me a photo of the book in situ soon.
He’s one of these three people. I am one of these three people.
6. I’ve sold a few copies of CtD via some emotional blackmail online. I am not against it. One copy has gone to Boston, in the US of A to my old mate Derek.
7. The next Rogue Strands event has been announced. See you on 23rd April. We won’t mess with the St George’s Flag (topical, liddle bit of politics, etc), purely because we won’t be displaying one. Line up looks ace. Rebecca Farmer, Paul Stephenson, Christopher Horton, Suzanna Fitzpatrick, That Stewart bloke and me. See you at the barricades (as the Bunnymen say).
8. Perhaps most importantly, Mr Scruff…the missing cat that has caused my street WhatsApp group much consternation this week turned up unharmed this week. No photos of Mr Scruff, but here’s one of Margot enjoying the fire on Saturday night.
A song that seems appropriate
The Wedding Present, Soup. Incidentally, I met Derek of Boston via The Wedding Present fan forum.
THE LAST **Cough** WEEKS IN STATS
HEALTH STATS 25K running. Mostly running. Knee improving! Runs have been pain free. Early days, but encouraging..Just need to get my lung capacity up 1 x work outs to build some core strength, fix knee knack and sort my back out 3days without cigarettes… 1 days since drinking 1 bouts of insomnia
LIFE STATS 1 conference 1 leaving do 1 car windscreen resealed 1 batch of soup spoiled 1 cake baked 1 back garden tidied 1 lawn mown
POET STATS 0 loose ideas/articles gathered: 1 0 poem finished: 0 poem worked on: 0 poems committed to the reject pile 0 submissions: Propel, Black Iris 0 acceptances: Wild Court 0 Longlisting: Butcher’s Dog 0 reading at: 0 reading attended: Broken Sleep Launch 0 rejections: 23 poems are currently out for submission. 1 simultaneous sub 107 Published poems (including what’s in the book) 4 book sold 3 poems written and finished this year 1 batch out for 46 weeks…Oooh, will we make a year???
Music r= Radio, A = Audiobook, P=Podcast. The rest is music The Verb: Cute (P) Blindboy Podcast: When I was 13 and my da gave me the sex talk World Party: Goodbye Jumbo, Egyptology Anna Butterss: Activities Yo La Tengo: This Stupid World Yorkston/Thorne/Khan: Navarasa – Nine Emotions Youth Pictures of Florence Henderson: Unnoticeable in A Tiny Town, Invisible in the City Zwan: Mary, Star of the Sea The Archers (P) Dropsonde playlist That’s How I Remember It (P) Galaxie 500; Copenhagen Oisin Leech; Cold Sea VA: The Holdovers OST Men From S.P.E.C.T.R.E: The Living Eye Four Tet: Three My Morning Jacket: Live Vol 2 Chicago 2021 Black Belt Eagle Scot: ST, The Land, The Water, The Sky The Black Crowes: Shake Your Money Maker, the Southern Harmony & Musical Companion Yosuke Yamashita: Fragments 1969 Tanya Donelly: Lovesongs for Underdogs Belly: Star, Dove Ted Barnes: Underbelly Teardrop Explodes: Kilimanjaro, Wilder The Smile: Wall of Eyes Teenage Fanclub: Endless Arcade, Nothing Last Forever, Songs From Northern Britain Kacey Musgracves: Deeper Well The Loyal Seas: Strange Mornings In The Garden The Cure: Paris Jesus & Mary Chain: Glasgow Eyes Waxahatchee: Tiger Blood Shana Cleveland: Manzanita True Staves; All Now Charles Lloyd; Canto, The Sky Will Still Be there Tomorrow, Discovery Halo Maud: Celebrate Planet Poetry: Sean Hewitt Held By Trees: Solace The Wedding Present: El Rey
Read Irene Vallejo: Papyrus Michael Laskey: The Tightrope Wedding
Watched The Holdovers (4 Mats) Constellations Shōgun Napoleon Under The Banner of Heaven Kin Longley: Where The Poems Come From Fargo
Ordered/Bought Renewed Frogmore Papers sub
Arrived Poetry Wales Rialto Orbis Poetry Scotland Under The Radar
It’s been quite the week at work, and it’s left me bereft of much energy for anything else, so this will be brief.
Mid-week I attended a reading put on by the folks at Seren, Jonathan Edwards and Gillian Clarke both read wonderfully, as well as a host of open mic folks. I had totally missed the invitation to take part in the open mic, so missed my chance to say I’ve shared a bill with those two. One day perhaps!! I am at least two books behind on Gillian’s work, so I’d best do something about that.
I do miss reading aloud to people. I can’t imagine we’ll be doing a Rogue Strands night for a while yet, sadly, but I have bagged a slot at a Zoom-based evening of poetry that’s been organised by my local beer shop. A perfect combination for me, I reckon…Who knew, but one of the chaps that works there is also a poet.
Friday night, I watched Derek Mahon, The Poetry Nonsense on BBC two. I am ashamed to say I don’t know much about Mahon, other than how well he is/was respected. I have a selected Mahon by my bedside ready to read, so I will get there eventually, but he came across as an interesting if troubled soul in this doc. I think, however, it was leaving a lot more out about the man. I guess that may come out when I get to the poems.
I think the doc will be on the iPlayer for a while yet..get yerself over there and get it watched.
However, before I bugger off to get on with cooking dinner I shall leave you with a quote from a book that is t the top of my reading pile, eg I am reading at the mo…It’s also another Derek, the mighty Derek Walcott. I saw this opening to one of his poems last night and it seems apt for the world as it stands at present.
“The starved eye devours the seascape for the morsel Of a sail.
The horizon threads it infinitely.”
They are the opening lines from ‘The Castaway” and have made me desperate for the smell of salt in my nostrils, they’ve made me desperate to get back to the coast of Norfolk, but I’ll settle for something outside of the streets of Beckenham.
Christ, I want to go to Walcott, Derek.
THE WEEK IN STATS
23.5k running – Given I wasn’t actually planning to run this week I will take that. I even went out this morning just as Storm Darcy was sending down the first snowflakes. Next week I start training properly, so this week was good to keep a foot in the game.
0 day of 2 x 7-minute workouts, but the above means I don’t feel so bad
80 days of insults between my friend and me on Twitter. He started it.
1 x rejections: Spelt
0 x acceptances
1 poem worked on: Berlin
0 poems finished:
1 new Submissions: Poetry Wales
33 poems currently out for submission
58 Published poems*:
44 Poems* finished by unpublished
31 poems* in various states of undress
554 Rejected poems* Eg I’ve decided they are not good enough
0 Reviews* written. 2 still to do though, so must crack on
1 month, 1 week without cigarettes..Minor crack midweek, but it doesn’t count
0 days without drinking. Cracked with 4 hours to go last Sunday. I loved it.
1 more week that I’m not having an affair with Eva Green
Music Barry McGuire: Star Folk Fiona Apple: Fetch The Bolt Cutters Easy love: Wander Feeler Siouxsie & The Banshees: Hyaena Sonna: We Sing Loud Sing Soft Tonight Dodgy: What Are We Fighting For? Do Make Say Think: Stubborn Persistent Illusions, The Whole Story of Glory Math & Physics Club: I Shouldn’t Look As Good As I Do Mazes: Ores & Minerals, Wooden Aquarium, A Thousand Heys Chick Graning: MT The Chemical Brothers: Born In The Echoes, Come With Us, Dig Your Own Hole, Do It Again, Electronic Battle Weapon, Exit Planet Dust, Further, Loops of Fury, No Geography, Push The Button, Surrender, Theme From Velodrome, We Are The NightDust Black Country, New Road: For the first time One Little Plane; into The Trees Sun June; Somewhere Kikagaku Moyo: Masana Temples
TV/Film Ted Lasso E7-10 Call My Agent S1 E2-4 Derek Mahon: The Poetry Nonsense
Zooms, etc Seren First Thursday Reading Featuring Jonathan Edwards, Gillian Clarke and Open Mic
Radio/Podcasts The Archers Poetry Planet; With Charlotte Gann
Arrived The latest issue of Stand Steven Blyth books x 2 – sent back to me
Ordered Nothing
Tall Ships, Murmuration
Bonus track – I can’t mention Gillian Clark and not include this after hearing her suggest it on Desert Island Discs.
Last week was something of a busy week, I have almost no idea what happened in the world outside at all…something about vaccines and Brexit. A combination of impending Jury Service in Croydon next week (who is being sentenced here??) and the need to use up holiday days at work meant that the Friday just gone was technically my last day at work for this year. This meant a “mega-fuckload”* of work needed doing in order to get things wrapped up. I think I’ve done most of it, and I will still need to be checking in on things in between sentencing old ladies to the death penalty for minor traffic offences**.
It feels very odd to be done for the year with three weeks to go, but I guess I’m not. I’ve still got to go to court, etc, but after the last 9 months at home and the breakneck pace of work since then, I’m quite looking forward to having to actually get up and go somewhere, even if it is Croydon***.
The manicness of it all has meant that I was thoroughly remiss in not mentioning that the lovely Ben Banyard was kind enough to invite me to send him a poem for his new series/feature on his blog called Finest. The idea being a poet sends in what they think to be a great piece of work, or something they feel has been overlooked.
I went with something more akin to the latter. Ben, as I’m sure you know, used to run Clear Poetry, and Clear was one of the places that first accepted my work. One of the poems Clear accepted was a poem called Slarver (Norfolk for talking a load of old shite, and nearly the title for this site, fact fans). The story behind why I chose to give Ben Slarver again is on the site, so get yourself over there. Do read the others, there are some fascinating and heartbreaking stories. Also, keep your eyes peeled for his latest collection, Hi-Vis which should be out next year.
The manicness also meant that my plans/routine/lockdown ritual/whatever of writing for 30+ minutes before work also went out of the window this week, so while I’ve not so much as looked at a poem this week it has been a good week for publications.
The lovely ladies, (Holly and Claire – wonderful poets in their own right) at Atrium published my poem Sparklers at the start of the week. Sparklers is a poem that has been hanging around in notebooks in one form or another for about 20 years. It took the chance seeing of a work colleague on a train station platform (they were standing on a platform going one way, I was behind the glass of a train going the other way) to jumpstart what eventually became this version.
I sent this to Atrium last year and it came back with a note saying how much they liked it, but it felt like it needed to be published in December and they were full for December 2019. I sat, patiently and waited until earlier this year to send it, and some others, in again. This time they were powerless to resist, and I am very grateful. Not least because they publish so many great poems – the Angela Readman poem before mine is awesome, but also because it gives me a chance to use this picture.
Spud, you like?
Later in the week the publishing gods kept on giving, as the Winter issue of The High Window was published, featuring two poems of mine: ‘Selling The Trampoline’, and ‘A Short Survey’. I’m still working my way through it at present, but there are some wonderful poets surrounding me. Simon Richey is one – I have his collection ‘Naming The Tree’ on my shelves, and there’s a poem of his that caused me to buy it. I wish I could remember what it was, but I loved it and it wasn’t in the book, so I hope he gets a new collection out so I can hopefully be reminded.
Both of the poems of mine are ones I really like, Trampoline feels like more of a summer poem to me, but A Short Survey is one I wanted to get right, somehow combining the day job with my writing. I think it’s a vein to explore further, but I’m not going to force it. Both these poems took several drafts and rethinkings to get to this stage.
As ever, come for my poems and stay for the others.
The final gift from the poetry gods this week has been what I think is the fastest ever move from a first draft to final draft to acceptance. I finished the second draft of a poem last week, and after running it by a voice I trust, I sent it off yesterday for consideration towards a chapbook/anthology. I woke up to the acceptance email this morning. While the idea for the poem came in the middle of this summer, I didn’t write anything until two weeks ago, so that’s positively sprinter-level stuff for me.
In a week (if you squint and don’t look at the date of Ben publishing ‘Slarver’) where two places I’ve been published before have taken poems, it’s worth noting that another of the first places to take my work has reached a milestone.
Happy 25th anniversary to Snakeskin Poetry. I think George was the first to take a proper poem of mine back in 2013, my poem about a Knife Thrower’s Assistant. (I’ve subsequently re-written this poem, but having just looked at it again I can see it needs more work before sharing it). He’s also taken another poem in the last couple of years about a person that can’t stop growing…
What an achievement staying open for 25 years is, so congratulations to Snakeskin, and may they continue to keep shedding skins and growing.
Finally, I’d like to draw your attention to the annual tradition of Matthew Stewart’s list of top poetry blogs for 2020 (in his opinion). I’m very honoured to be included for the second year running, but I think the bit I always look out for is the new additions, and Matthew’s highlighted a couple I think I will be reading for a long time.
Have a look over here for the full list. It’s not in order of importance, but I’m saying I won it.
* Technical term ** Obvs, I won’t. Just life sentences ***Just joking, as much as I dislike driving through**** Croydon I don’t mind the place. **** I like driving back out even more
THE WEEK IN STATS
22k running – Didn’t make my weekly target, but felt the need to sleep in today. 35K to go to hit my entirely arbitrary goal of 1500 Km for the year.
1 day of 2 x 7-minute workouts, but the above means I don’t feel so bad
0 x rejections: All good.
1 x acceptance – 1 poem
0 poems worked on.
0 poems finished:
3 Submissions: Spelt and Dreich
1 Review written and submitted. 2 to do though, so must crack on
29 days without cigarettes (and one blip on Friday night)
1 more week that I’m not having an affair with Eva Green
TITLE GIVEAWAY
Klaus Gnomic Avant-Garden Centre Fly-Tipping By JR Hartley
READ/SEEN/HEAR/ETC
Read Daniel Bennett: West South North North South East
Music Matthew Halsall: Sending my Love, Oneness Taylor Swift: Folklore-The Long Pond Sessions Grandaddy: The Sophtware Slump, Sumday, Under The Western Freeway, Just like The Family Cat, Last Place Cafe Racer: Shadow Talk Explosions In The Sky: Live, The Earth Is Not A Cold Dead Place, How Strange, Innocence Great Lake Swimmers: ST Greg Dulli: Random Desire Hop Along: Painted Shut Hurray For the Riff Raff: The Navigator Ian Broudie: Tales Told J Mascis: Elastic Days James Iha: Be Strong Now Josh T Pearson: Last of The Country Gentlemen The Orielles: Silver Dollar Moment The Beatles: Abbey Road, The Beatles, Beatles For Sale, A Hard Day’s Night, Help, Let It be, Magical Mystery Tour, Non Album Singles, Please Please Me, Revolver, Rubber Soul, Sgt Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band, Yellow Submarine The National: Alligator, Boxer Postal Service: Everything Will Change Kaitlyn Aurelia Smith: Mosaic of Transformation Jeremy Cunningham : The Weather Up Here British Sea Power: Open Season Sae Higashi: Klangfarben
TV/Film The Boys: S2E8 The Undoing E1 The Christmas Prince (NB Flo’s choice, utter bobbins)
Zooms, etc PBLJ #5 Launch
Radio/Podcasts The Archers Planet Poetry #1 and 2
Ordered A running hat
Arrived Finished Creatures #4 Orbis 194 Mona Arshi: Dear Big Gods Poetry Wales #57 A running hat
It’s done. It’s happened. It’s over…and it was fucking excellent, thank you, please. See a review from my friend Mike below…
It goes without saying that we (Matthew and I) have to say thank you to the readers – they were all truly excellent. Different from each other, but totally in control of what they were doing from the off. There was literally nothing that I would want to change about any of the readings.
The whole evening passed by in a bit of a rush for me, so I don’t have the level of recall to go through everything that everyone read, but I think almost everyone (apart from Matthew) treated us to new work and from their most recent collections – apart from me, obvs.
I think I’d only read two of the poems in my set in front of anybody else before, so it’s all new work from me until it’s in a collection. I guess that’s a subject in itself. What constitutes new work, when does a poem stop being new? *Makes note for another post*
I think the most heartening thing for me was that other people came. I was astounded to see the lovely Josephine Corcoran waiting outside the venue when I arrived. She’d travelled up from Trowbridge, admittedly to see her Son as well but the fact she came along makes me very pleased.
Everyone of the readers brought at least one “punter” with them, so we made the room look full. Some people even turned up because they wanted to, eg Josephine, Oliver Comins, Andrew Neilson, Rob Selby and my friends Matt, Mark and Mike. A huge, huge thank you to them all for showing up to support this event and, perhaps most importantly, The Trussell Trust.
There they are. As mentioned elsewhere, this is either our wonderful audience or the most rickety of rollercoasters
While I’m mentioning The Trussell Trust, I’ve not quite totted up all we’ve raised, but we took about £100 on the night, we had about £278 in online donations before. Not quite at the £500 I was hoping for—you can still donate here — but it’s a good amount and I am pleased it all goes direct to The Trussell Trust.
It’s been a week of campaigning where the incumbent government continue to show how little they care about the general population and/or folks in need, so anything we can do to help is fine with me.
So, now what follows are a few learnings I’ve noted to myself following the evening.
1. Make sure you book Katy Evans-Bush, Robin Houghton, Neil Elder, Rishi Dastidar, Clarissa Aykroyd, Rory Waterman and Ramona Herdman.
2. Take notes as you go…I wish I’d made notes as while I remember every reading, I’m unclear about it all/able to make full reviews. I think I was all over the shop as it was happening trying to keep an eye on timings, thinking about my own work, trying to take pictures, etc..so notes would be a big help.
3. Don’t drink two pints quickly before you start. Half way through the second reader I was desperate for a pee…I made sure my set was bang on 10 minutes as I was leading into the break…
4. Take photos or ask someone else to of every reader. Due to a poor choice of seat I was unable to take a picture of Robin – sorry, Robin, but I asked my friend Mike (who happens to be a photographer) after that to take a few shots in case I forgot. See below for details
5. Make sure you check your readers know when they are reading. I’d emailed everybody with a running order, but Katy seemed very shocked when I mentioned she was reading first. I suspect the email was lost in spam…so CHECK/CONFIRM everyone’s read it!!
6. Enjoy the bejesus out of it.
7. Book the King & Queen – excellent venue, great room…
Right, the pictures of our lovely readers.
Katy, possibly talking about QuincesNeil – the view I hadNeil, from the Crowd Lord Dastidar – possibly talking about Neptune or Clive JamesSome knobheadBonus knobheadClarissa – possibly reading about Sherlock HolmesArty Clarissa via MikeRory being excellentRamona Promoting Cafe Writers Competition (You have a few hours to enter)Ramona reading her workThat Stewart bloke pre-Costume changeMatthew balancing reading and imaginary darts matchesBonus photo of the old till upstairs.
THE WEEK IN STATS
I’ve created a page for the Title Giveaway, so they are now there as well
TITLE GIVEAWAY
Die Fingermouse
Deadball Specialist
THE WEEK IN STATS
14k running – Slower week due to not being able to go on Thursday day or evening – some event on
1 Poem worked on A draft of a poem for our office Xmas lunch next week. It won’t win an award, but it has some excellent punning in
0 days without cigarettes. I was doing so well, then had a bit of a relapse this week. Oh well, onwards and sideways
1 amazing meal at Ting at The Shard – Thursday afternoon before the reading. A Xmas lunch with a supplier for work. I stayed off the booze while everyone else was tanning the wine. Couldn’t mention it on Thursday as Shard is a banned word in the poetry world.
1 acceptance for 1 poems – The lovely ladies at Atrium have taken my poem, Gift, for publication in Feb next year. Another almost made it too.
1 rejection By Frogmore, again. However, two nearly made it in
1 review to be rewritten – You’ll see when you see.
1 more week that I’m not having an affair with Eva Green
READ, SEEN, ETC
Read: Why? Robin Houghton
Ordered: A new running sleeve and new headphones. Craft ed. Rishi Dastidar
Watched: 4 ep of Spiral
Listened to: Laura Veirs, The Lookout The National, I Am Easy To Find Girl Ray, Girl Caspian, Dust & Disquiet, Waking Season, Tertia and Live At Old South Church Galaxie 500, On Fire Ride, This Is Not A Safe Place Athletico Mince, a couple of eps... and of course, The Archers…
I’m assuming you know about Baader Meinhof, but are you familiar with Baader-Meinhof Syndrome?
If you’re not, in a nutshell after you’ve noticed something once you start to see it everywhere.
Well this isn’t about that, but it’s close and it makes it easy for me to choose the song at the end as well. And yes, I will use this is a way to promote the Rogue Strands night on the 28th. (Please note, it’s almost over. This post and then one more to sum it up and I can move on—until the next one.)
A week or so ago I noticed a spooky coincidence. Matt Merritt posted about Rogue Strands at his blog. Which was really very kind of him. I’ve always enjoyed his posts and I loved The Elephant Tests and hydrodaktulopsychicharmonica. I just hope I can track down a copy of Troy Town at some point.
Matthew Stewart has long been recommending Matt’s (keep up, there’s a lot of Matthews involved here) first pamphlet, Making The Most of the Light (HappenStance) to me and I had finally got round to buying it a couple of days before Matt M had posted his, er, post.
This is where it then starts to get weirder. My dear friend had asked me for advice about places to go in Norwich as he was on his way there to visit. On the day he Tweeted as below and I replied.
Norfolk: Where mountains genuinely are made out of molehills.
Later that evening, following a couple of pints with the very lovely Andrew Neilson, I was sat on the train home and finally had the time to dive into Matt M’s book.
I sailed through it, inhaling every poem as I went…
I mean ‘Treaty’ floored me*. I assume it has the same effect on you.
* All the preceding poems are excellent too…
But it was when I turned the page and got half way through ‘Yellow Bellies’ that things got “proper weird”. The notes for this poem point out the Vermuyden is a reference to the Dutch engineer, Cornelius Vermuyden, who introduced Dutch land reclamation methods to England and drained the Fens of East Anglia.
Crazy coincidence or not, I’m glad I’ve made the acquaintance of this pamphlet, especially in the week when there are changes afoot with HappenStance, but that’s not my story to tell. If you’re a subscriber you will already know. If you’re not, why not?
Right, enough wanging on from me. BUY MATT MERRITT’S BOOKS. COME TO ROGUE STRANDS ON THE 28TH. DONATE TO US.
THE WEEK IN STATS
I’m not sure how I managed it, something to do with a function of WordPress that I totally fucked up, but I’ve made all the previous ‘Week In Stats’ all say the same as the most recent one. I’ve no idea how to fix it. Thankfully, I have them saved as part of an RSS feed, so perhaps when I can be arsed I’ll go back and fix it…Or just add a page on for the title giveaways, etc. However, for this week…
TITLE GIVEAWAY
Fag Ash Lilt
Prior Convictions
Falseoreo – A name for non-branded Oreos as invented by Florence and sounds like Shakespeare character
How to Put a Fez on an Alien
Man, You Got Banned From a Bookshop
THE WEEK IN STATS
35k running – 20k this morning – my left hip is killing me, but the run felt good.
1 Poem worked on It’s been a quiet two or three weeks on that front, but managed a new draft of ‘Arecibo Message’
2 days without cigarettes. I was doing so well, then had a bit of a relapse on Friday night watching
2 Punk bands – My mate invited me to see the legendary Sham 69. It was a riot.
1 acceptance for 3 poems – Not sure I can say who yet, but it’s a good one. It’s my second batch of three to be taken on the trot, so I shall expect this every time now.
1 poem published Up at Black Bough. My poem is called Safety Shot. There are many more ace poems there to be seen
1 review written and submitted – You’ll see when you see.
1 Review published at London Grip – Rose Cook’s ‘Sightings’
1 more week that I’m not having an affair with Eva Green
READ, SEEN, ETC
Read: Isha Upanishad Trans. by Mario Petrucci Dodo Provocateur, Anita Pati
Ordered: Nothing
Watched: 2 eps of Succession, 1 ep of Spiral
Listened to: Billy Corgan, Cotillions, Ogilala Underworld, Drift Vol.1 The New Pornographers, In The Morse Code of Brake Lights Arms & Sleepers, Swim Team Bob Dylan, Hard Rain, The Bootleg Series 15 Neil Young, Hawks & Doves, Silver & Gold and Harvest Harmony Rockets, Lachesis Big Thief, U.F.O.F Screaming Trees, Dust and Sweet Oblivion
So, it occurred to me that Matthew has been publishing exemplar (and exemplary) poems by each of the poets that are appearing at Rogue Strands on the 28th November—have I mentioned that before?—but a bit like being the photographer who never gets to be in front of the camera, he’s not going to write about himself.
Therefore, I’m taking it upon myself to write a Rogue Strands-style intro for him.
I’ve been a fan of Matthew’s work since I stumbled across it on the Twitters at least four years ago. I was lucky enough to snap up the last copies of his two HappenStance pamphlets, Tasting Notes and Inventing Truth and to meet him (and his lovely wife, Marina) when they were over in London to launch his excellent first collection, The Knives of Villalejo. That meeting, and the pints that followed have basically led to this. I knew I should have stuck to water that evening!!!
Only joking…*
I’ve been lucky enough to see some of the poems Matthew is working on towards his next collection and I’m looking forward to seeing where that goes. While he has always had a keen eye for developing small details about the immediate world into something that resonates at a much wider level (see almost any page in Knives for more details), he’s certainly moving on in terms of his work. Where Knives dealt a lot with family, his new work is building on different memories and truths.
Sadly, his beloved Aldershot FC didn’t manage the kind of win that leads to an eruption yesterday; a six-nil tonking at the hands of Dagenham & Redbridge saw to that, but the poem below does speak of one of life’s greatest joys – whatever the capacity of your club’s ground.
At the Far Post
Forget your novels, plays or films, the only remaining moment I can suspend my disbelief
is an overcast Saturday in March, stood among curses, coughs and scarves on a crumbling terrace,
as our winger hoists a deep cross, our striker buries his header and all of us erupt.
Not much to ponder on this week. A busy week at work and a skinful yesterday has left me a bit dry.
I’m mainly about the push towards the 28th November now for the Rogue Strands evening.
I plan to sit down and get things like the running order together, to look at how I might introduce the poets, what my own setlist will look like and can I do this evening without drinking?
It feels easy at present given how I feel right now – Note to self: You are not 25 anymore and day drinking is bad if not done in moderation.
On the other side of things, it’s worth drawing your attention to Matthew’s blog post promoting the first of our poets for the 28th – You are coming, yeah?
He’s written about Ramona Herdman and I suggest you read it now. I am pleased to say that the poem Ramona chose to share is one I’d highlighted in my copy of Under The Radar.
Read the blog post for the full poem, but you won’t be disappointed
It also couldn’t have been more prescient as he shared the poem on what turned out to be Bladerunner day, eg the day that Bladerunner ceased to be set in the future: 01.11.19. I always wanted to be Rick Deckard when I was a lad, so I am slightly biased towards this poem. I must get round to watching the sequel when I have a spare three hours.
In another spooky alignment, a Phillip K Dick book was waiting for me when I got back to work this week…
I’m looking forward to seeing who comes up next on his list, especially to see what slanderous scuttlebutt he says about me. However, it’s mainly to see the poems people have provided.
TITLE GIVEAWAY
Priority Seat
Orthopaedic Hovercraft (Credit to my wife for this one)
The Screaming of Rhubarb
Darkness on the Edge of Tans
Burnt Parsnips
THE WEEK IN STATS
17K running – Missed a run this week due to a visiting mother
0 Poems worked on Nada, nowt, zilch. Although, half an idea about a combination of Unwinese and Nadsat.
27 days without cigarettes. May have smoked yesterday, but it’s a blip.
1 rejection email – From Primers. There’s a magnificent looking shortlist of poets though, so I can’t wait to see who gets chosen.
1 flurry of submissions – Now I have a load of poems back I can send a load out again. That’s how it works
1 introduction to Stanley Unwin I’m pleased to have introduced someone to the work of Sir Stanley…
1 review published – Jane Lovell’s This Tilting Earth
1 more week that I’m not having an affair with Eva Green
READ, SEEN, ETC
Read: The Doomed City by Arkady & Boris Strugatsky Island of Towers, Clarissa Aykroyd
Ordered: Nothing
Watched: Not a lot, couple of Dublin Murders and a Rugby World Cup final..
Listened to: Vetiver, Up on High, Thing of the Past REM, Monster Michael Kiwanuka, Kiwanuka Anna Meredith, Fibs 808 State, Transmission Suite and of course, The Archers…
A monster tune from before Vangelis wrote soundtracks, eg for Blade Runner
Yep, it’s back…almost a year to the day. It’s my enormous pleasure to be able to start talking about this properly, but after the success of last year’s event, Matthew Stewart and I are finally able to put on the second of these nights.
Hopefully, we can start picking up the pace a little bit now, although that is dependent on Matthew being able to get over from Spain. However, that’s an issue for another time.
For now, I want to concentrate on what an amazing line up of poets we’ve assembled.
Feast your mince pies on this lot:
I mean, how good is this list?
How good is that list of people, even factoring me into it? That is a mix of poets to be proud of and all for the princely sum of £3 (or more if you want) that goes to help out the wonderful folks at The Trussell Trust.
Last year we raised over £300. I want to do much more than that this year, so if you can’t make it then please do feel free to donate here – justgiving.com/fundraising/roguestrands2019
Matthew is going to share more in terms of bios and a poem from each of the readers in the next few weeks and I will talk more about them here, but for now join me in my excitement.
It’s an honour for me to read with all of these poets, I’m a fan of all of them, so I’m a big giddy about it. Let me know if you’re coming along.
TITLE GIVEAWAY
Priority Seat
Orthopaedic Hovercraft (Credit to my wife for this one)
The Screaming of Rhubarb
Darkness on the Edge of Tans
Burnt Parsnips
THE WEEK IN STATS
17K running – Missed a run this week due to a visiting mother
0 Poems worked on Nada, nowt, zilch. Although, half an idea about a combination of Unwinese and Nadsat.
27 days without cigarettes. May have smoked yesterday, but it’s a blip.
1 rejection email – From Primers. There’s a magnificent looking shortlist of poets though, so I can’t wait to see who gets chosen.
1 flurry of submissions – Now I have a load of poems back I can send a load out again. That’s how it works
1 introduction to Stanley Unwin I’m pleased to have introduced someone to the work of Sir Stanley…
1 review published – Jane Lovell’s This Tilting Earth
1 more week that I’m not having an affair with Eva Green
READ, SEEN, ETC
Read: The Doomed City by Arkady & Boris Strugatsky Island of Towers, Clarissa Aykroyd
Ordered: Nothing
Watched: Not a lot, couple of Dublin Murders and a Rugby World Cup final..
Listened to: Vetiver, Up on High, Thing of the Past REM, Monster Michael Kiwanuka, Kiwanuka Anna Meredith, Fibs 808 State, Transmission Suite and of course, The Archers…
Well, who else was it going to be? I reckon I’ve got at least 12 Rogue Strands nights before I need to find another band to use for these things
Wear The Fox Hat 