Month: November 2019

Misty In Cambridge This Morning

Not only was it misty, someone had gone around and edged the leaves in white and put little dots of white along the veins of the leaves. Which reminds me of a poem, half remembered that I wrote when I was about fifteen. My parents, grandparents and I would go out in the car. We lived a long way from the countryside, and really it would not have made much difference had we been nearer. You could drive in the countryside and you could get out in a lay-by and eat sandwiches and drink tea from a flask. But you couldn’t get into the countryside, not really into it. This is England: You couldn’t and you cannot just get out and walk. Well, you could if you went to a National Park, but they don’t grow on trees. So I wrote this poem that was odd really because I am not sure exactly what it was speaking to. I don’t remember the whole poem, but it was a series of records of things you could …

Stepping Out Cool In New York

I came across this photo in my files while I was look for something else. It’s a crop of a street scene in lower Manhattan in New York. I am on the pavement and two men are walking across the street towards me on the crossing. Both wore hats and one was Asian. I couldn’t see the other man because he had dark glasses on, but maybe Hispanic. The trilby that the Asian man was wearing was a fashion statement. All their clothes were, and looking at it when I came across the photo took me back to think about when I was still at school. I had a pair of Hush Puppies, brown suede. I think I wore that brand from my mid to late teens. I thought they were cool. I wonder what word I used to describe them, because I doubt whether it was ‘cool’. Then I developed a whole thing about revolting against looking cool and that included not cutting my hair or my beard. The idea was not to be …