It's been a strange few days. After months of not bothering with poetry (I even have unopened poetry magazines, so deep has been my indifference to it - even ones with me in them, which is usually guaranteed to make me open them) I became slightly more i…
It's been a strange few days. After months of not bothering with poetry (I even have unopened poetry magazines, so deep has been my indifference to it - even ones with me in them, which is usually guaranteed to make me open them) I became slightly more interested.
This may have been due to the editing I did for the three lots of three poems I submitted for the end of July, though it wouldn't account for all of it. It may also have been due to finally feeling that I'd turned the corner with my urological problems. It could even have been due to things I have seen in the Olympics (though that is the subject of another post).
Anyway, whatever happened I now have notes made for three new pieces (the first in months, as the submissions are edits of poems that were all started at least six months ago). Two of them relate to my visit to hospital ten months ago and several of them were started before then.
My first act after posting this will be to make a cup of tea. I haven't had one for two hours and part of my Olympic learning is that hydration is important. I may then take some performance enhancing drugs, as they seem to be all the rage these days and there are so many great excuses that many people get off. My drug of choice is marmalade. Generally you can get away with it as long as you wipe your fingers afterwards.
After I will cogitate on the tactful way many TV commentators avoid talking about drug cheats and start work.
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