For Jeremy Reed
Rejection doesnt lead me to dejection
But to inspiration via irritation
Or at least to a bit of naughty new year wit-
Oh isnt it a shame my poetrys not tame
Like Ruperts or Jays - I never could
Get into their STRIDE just to much pride
To lick the arses of the poetry-of-earthers
Or the sad lady who runs KATABASIS from the back
Of a bike, gets shouted at by rude parkies
And writing huffy poems to prove it...
Oh to be acceptable and
IN THE POETRY REVIEW
Like Lavinia or Jo
With double spreads
And a glossy colour photo
Instead Im stuck in a bus queue at Morden
Londons meridian point of zero imagination
Actually its a bit like ACUMEN with the Oxleys
Boasting about their 150,000 annual submissions-
If what they prints the best God help the rest...)
At least my Christmas post had - instead of a card
From Jeremy Reed - his ELEGY FOR DAVID GASCOYNE -
The best poem Ive had by post in forty years
And Jeremys best to date in my estimate -
The English APOLLINAIRE - your ZONE, your SONG
OF THE BADLY LOVED - sitting in a cafe in South End Green
I send you this poem, Jeremy, sight unseen,
A new years gift to you, pushing through
To star galaxies still unmapped and to you, BW,
Sonneteer of silence, huddled in the fourth month
Of your outdoor vigil, measuring in blood, tears and rain
Your syllable count in hour-glass of pain.