We watched a documentary about John Cooper Clarke. I'd never heard of him before, and it took me a while to get what they were all raving about. As I started to hear, as I began to get the dark humor, the brilliance seeped through. Amazingly witty mind, took me a little while to catch up to him. Every time he made me laugh, I warmed to him, listened harder. All very impressive.
Summer flowers mostly blown. More dead sunflowers than blooming, one or two still to open. Tomatoes may have one more wave, but none ripe now. The lull of summer, a sort of dead zone. Perhaps next year, I will plant pumpkins, for this crisping time.
Need to beat back the entropy, yesterday was not the day for it. Today must be.
6 comments:
That's interesting! Performance poets seem to be very much in vogue at the moment - probably mainly at the Edinburgh Festival.
Hope you'll feel revitalised soon.
RR,
Good to hear. I think form matters far less than talent and energy. I could use a bit of energy.
I remember John Cooper Clarke from around 1979 when he was one of two good punk poets. Good to hear he has not lost that energy.
Backstreeter,
He seems to be sharp and brilliant still.
Saw him a couple of times in student days, and coming and going in Brixton in the 80s, living with Nico I seem to remember. Glad he's still around and doing fine.
It's a funny old time of year. I think I'm appreciating it more than ever before, except for the flies which seem worse than ever.
Lucy,
Brixton then about like Detroit was, at the same time?
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