Ted Hughes coming out of the radio


I have been wondering recently if the world of the poem (the one that is currently not-here, just out of reach, and made up of sub-audible groaning noises), and the world of dailiness (the one that is here and includes timetables; reports; meetings; phone calls and groceries) are not after all the same and may well never be.


I have been wondering if ‘See you later’ is in any way something that can be found in the process of writing a poem whose primary site of attention is to sub-audible groaning noises; or if it only belongs in a commonplace note of farewell at the end of a phone call to my sister.


And I have been wondering if the new lights on the roundabout over the motorway at Tiverton is part of this.


Or if switching the radio on by accident in the car and hearing Ted Hughes coming out of it is a sign that the universe is telling you something. Or Langston Hughes.


And how this links somehow, most definitely in a strong way, but not too definitely either, to Peter Sansom’s line at the end of ‘Distance Learning’ about students being required to write poems about the moon.


And how many great poems there are (or should be?) with the word ‘moon’ the last line. The moon is not a nice man, for example.


and whether this means a poem is about to start brewing or am I just more than usually tired




And it makes me wonder (I have a feeling someone else got there first…)


that possibly the only answer is to sit in silence till it hurts, or with a pad or back of an envelope, to abjure the radio, eat radishes for a week, speak only with my plants, and wait, until it (or nothing), or even another poem (the ghost-poem that is often more real than the intended, desired poem) begins to materialise in what looks and sounds like another language that may take me years to understand


not to mention if I will ever know whether the wait was worth it.


    1. You were on my shoulder as I wrote it. Something you once told me about Pound (?) Eliot (?) saying he was basically writing for four people.
      You know you are one of them.
      Xx and love


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