Recently, I’ve been digging through some of my earliest poems from twenty years ago (I’ve written for longer, but it’s only since then that I decided they were worth keeping). I have ignored them upto now because they are rather, well, rubbish…and yet, I was proud of them at the time, and were an important step onto better work. Were they not salvageable, with some judicious edits and rewrites ? Honestly…sort of. They’re still not great, but just about make it over the threshold of what I’ll accept to be published, as long as they get a fair wind and sympathetic readership.
So, for this week, I shall be presenting some of my not-best works, as an encouragement to my twenty-year younger self. Enjoy. Or, at least, don’t wince too harshly, the wind might change and you’ll be stuck that way.
So, here they are:
Epitaph
Vanity by Numbers
Wearing the Clothes of Emperors
Blown on the Windrush
Propersome Grammar
Journeyman
Witnesses
