Southerly, June 22nd, 2001
POEM down the back the light is on so my dad, if he wakes, can see. The rain, beating down creates a kind of silence, a sound that blankets all the others -- fridge, fluoro light -- a bubble in which I work, sit really seeking to avoid cliche -- & thus reduced to silence A review in front of me that I don't want to write. The poems of a poet I admire -- full of things that it's allright for him to say (That is, "but I can't".) A big selection of Samuel Johnson to fall back on -- to pass the time It is interesting how it would change things if I named the other poet "Interesting"? how is that...
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