Category: pilferedpoetry
-
The Wilde World
I embarked recently on my dad’s intimidating Collected Oscar Wilde. So far it has been accessed solely for plays and the occasional quote from a poem. Now I am reading essays, and an early favourite is, naturally, a dialectic. Vivian: I intend to call it The Decay of Lying: A Protest. Cyril: Lying! I should…
-
A Whiff of Scandal.
An edited version of this post appeared in OpenDemocracy, here. Five years ago, the Tamil actress Khushboo said something innocuous in the course of an interview. She expressed surprise that adult men expected virgin brides, and went on to say that it was prudent to use protection while one does the big nasty. I gather…
-
Pie in the Sky
I am the sort of person that prefers time divided up into centuries. All the same, sometimes 1911 seems long ago and a whole world away. Last night, I was lucky enough to encounter Joe Hill before the blues. The Preacher and the Slave Long-haired preachers come out every night, Try to tell you what’s…
-
An experiment, begun with Larkin.
Blues Shouter. There ain’t no music East side of this city That’s mellow like mine is, That’s mellow like mine. Wooden guitar, light cavern Where the strings pound: Hideout, haven, Romping walk of sound. Innocent beat No one can imprison, No one can rob or cheat, Bully or argue down. Honour the shaking Chamber under…