i am writing this on good friday not long after a bird shat on my head and down page 21 of Bohumil Hrabal's Closely Observed Trains and why not when somewhere else:
"it's 9:00pm on the Fourth of July and
I am listening to Samuel Barber's
Adagio for strings. What the hell
is wrong with me?!"
who knows? maybe nothing. just like there's nothing wrong with New Orleans based poet, Mike Meraz's, new chap, Black-Listed Thoughts, a series of musings that can be read as one continous poem or the experiences of forty years lived.
and yes, some hit, some miss but who could fault lines like these:
"I have come to realise
the only good thing
about Modern Art
is the free wine and beer"
and as i crack open another VB and read another line i am drawn to Mike's gentle observations but also those flashes of anger and brilliance as he whispers his truths and "all the centuries surround us.
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