Readings (the other side of the story)

I have a terrible confession, especially after my blog about people who don't read. I don't read poetry! I'm a lazy tyke and I find poetry on the page is quite hard work, so I just don't read it. However, I'm not entirely without hope, because I do love to hear poetry and I could happily sit and listen to poets reading their own work all day (and all night, but that's another story). So when I know a poet I admire is giving a reading, I will generally break my reclusive habits to go along.

This is John McCullough, reading from his new collection Cloudfish last night at Joogleberry's in Brighton. It was a short but very intense reading and because I already knew John's work, I was prepared to grab a table right at the front and sit with my eyes closed, because his poems are dense with ideas and visual images, and require quite a bit of concentration to get the most out of them when they are being read aloud. I'm indebted too, to Ellen de Vries, another poet, who condensed my fantasy about having a poet in every room of my home, ready to read aloud, into the phrase 'poets in cupboards' which explains why she is a poet and I am not!

I came home on the bus, still enthralled by 'Tropospheric' - a poem that explores how clouds view the land, and looking forward to my next poetry reading ...

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