Saturday, 10 April 2010

Four Poems - Andy Spragg

A Whole Chorus-Line of
Relaxing Guts

Old fat epistle tongue
had foresight enough
to bring his own old
fat photographer

one who could catch
an aging process by
dusting the faces
of those gathered
there that day
with fine silver
powder
their fat
folds giving gravity
the best kind of meal

a luxurious dollop suspended
waiting
the whole world is in
an anticipatory mood
sphincters tightening at
the pleasure of seeing
old fat faces turning
to liquid on their
own old fat bones


For S

I like falling asleep in cars or coaches
in transit – I wonder if it’s
similar to taking psychedelics –
oh and by the way,
you are the most amazing
company to take around
Tescos – even when my
tummy is distraught from
a solemn fullness and you
are looking at the most illustrious
of cream cakes – hey look! The
coach just passed a car in traffic
and I saw an old lady in the
passenger seat playing pat-a-cake
with herself
and secretly I thought of my mum
and sort of wish you’d meet her.
She is tolerant and kind
and she too takes me to
see the cream buns.


Advice to the Writer.

Entitle a first collection “A mother’s
broad ruin, limey tap water.”
Make explicit your intention –
you are a relaxing gut – in fact
all first published poets are
a relaxing gut, perhaps
despotic.

Quit it, and take
up quilting instead.

Go to Wanstead
you once had a dream
about going to ‘The George’
there. In fact you’ve never
been there – except by now
it’s likely you’ve been there.
There’s no way to be sure.


Attempted note to a stranger on the coach

A belly-full of flirting –
and looking back
posts are knocked into the
ground at equal
distances
and look at me leaning back
against one of them –
smiling and referring back
to your athletic legs with the autumn
hue – hey today I’m going to go
plant my flag in Chelsea
and be a stand-up gent –
the sort of authority they
respect, not your ghastly draconian
sort – the frank sort – I
don’t give a damn – let’s
marry and make a dynasty.
--

Bio: Andy Spragg is a poet. He has a blog at http://www.brokenloop.blogspot.com/ He is a regular contributor to Maddog Magazine, as well as founding member of the Norwich Poetry Choir. In recent months he has completed the script for SHOEBOX, a performance piece being staged by The Effort in 2010. He is current editor for http://www.placetononplace.tumblr.com/

3 comments:

  1. I really like these poems. I have this strange infatuation with long lines, so sometimes I feel a bit claustrophobic here.

    "Go to Wanstead
    you once had a dream
    about going to ‘The George’
    there. In fact you’ve never
    been there – except by now
    it’s likely you’ve been there.
    There’s no way to be sure."

    Has a nice little James Tate flavor to it. Maybe I'm way off.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Ah, these are really refreshing. 'Advice to the Writer." = genuinely funny. Nice to see a poet with a good sense of humour!

    ReplyDelete
  3. "For S" - very charming poem, enjoyed reading this immensely.Somehow exactly the right length for a love poem as well, conveys the emotion perfectly without any superfluous language.

    ReplyDelete

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