Thursday 16 January 1975
Dreamt of TRUDY. I leant forward to kiss her, but she tried to put me off but finally succumbed.
Coincidence:
‘If You are But a Dream’ by Frank Sinatra on tape as I write!
a blogzine of investigative, exploratory, avant-garde, innovative poetry and poetics edited by Robert Sheppard
Thursday 16 January 1975
Dreamt of TRUDY. I leant forward to kiss her, but she tried to put me off but finally succumbed.
Coincidence:
‘If You are But a Dream’ by Frank Sinatra on tape as I write!
'The tone is wildly satiric, as far from Wordsworth as one might imagine,' he says, before plunging into an account of how I have variously transposed Romantic sonnets. 'Sheppard moves towards a more measured mode, the humour giving way as the poetry realises the limitations of satire in the face of the unthinkable, which requires a different response: "Not everything true is funny. Laughter is slaughter".' I'm glad he registers this shift, which I try to reflect on performing the poems, a shift I'm not sure an audience follows (retaining the stuff they've laughed at. 'Now that he has reimagined and expanded the entire canon of the English sonnet,' Billy notes, too kindly, 'I can’t wait to see where he takes us next.' Yes, where next? Thanks for the push, Billy!
The review may be read here: (it's the second of my two books): The English Strain and Bad Idea by Robert Sheppard: A Review – Elliptical Movements.
The book may be purchased here: https://www.shearsman.com/store/Robert-Sheppard-British-Standards-p661920471
And I say a little about the book here (and there are a lot of posts on this blog about the collection; its progress was exhaustively chronicled): Pages: British Standards published by Shearsman - out now
Wednesday 15 January 1975
Woke up with ‘MILTON’ on my lips.
Monday 13 January 1975
Stephen in wheelchair. He runs but feels numbness.
He’s been a terminal cancer patient for years.
I
pity him. He meets another like him.
Sunday 12 January 1975
Julian and his wife. [Southwick publicans] Talk of ghosts. She goes white.
‘What,
upstairs?’
‘Yes.’
Julian
says it’s not at the Pilot, but at their training house for managers. Which is Grandma
Sheppard’s old house in Melrose Avenue.
Friday 10 January 1975
Talking to Maggie in a pub. Getting angry like I do at her for smoking, about the political torture abroad.
Wednesday 8 January 1975
Fighting for the Anglo-Saxons against the Normans.
Down a ditch [diagram of ‘Me’ in a ditch and the two armies at each side]. Had
to get back without getting killed. Go, I lit a fire, disappearing under cover
of smoke.
Tuesday 7 January 1975
Granny here. We say we want to watch a programme on
the TV. She says she ‘doesn’t mind watching intelligent stuff’ though she’d
rather watch ‘the funny coloured man on the other side’.
I go
along another path to avoid washing up.
I’m
at a crossroads. Forward the road continues. I turn right. I see a mud path
through woods leading up a steep path to top of hill.
Could
be half a mile high.