What could enhance the sweet purity of Springtime more than an old bloke reading a poem? Well it does reflect the eternal cycle from wrinkled babbling all the way back and forward to wrinkled babbling. Therefore I decided to use a few more seconds of my digital fame allowance by putting the furrowed fizog on You tube.
You just gotta get the poetry out there. If you’re a poet (and I know that you are) why not join me at the Virtual Book Café. All I need is a short video clip and you’ll be joining the hum of twitching caffeinated minds amidst the clatter of cups and the accidental collisions of conversation. Contact details are on the website.
Last time I was here was November 2014. Since then I’ve been holding it all in like the south heading entrails of my lifetime’s vanity. Guys – poetry and gravity never relent. In the end you have to breathe out, express the urgent bulge of the soul. It’s only poetry so it’s only us who’re gonna notice. You can wear the same waist size – just lower with more over the top honesty. Only the true poets will spot the inversion of dispersion.
And, I’ve got a job. I’m a poet in residence. I’m dressing up and pushing it out on the wham bam instagram at the Virtual Book Café. It’s a run-down-up-town kinda place where the glitzy-glam-slam’s just walking by but the perfume tempts just long enough to hit the membranes of the poetic underclass. And you know who you are. And I’ll sure know who you are.
I need your lips to frame your clips. I’ve put up some footage in mouthage to give you a steer if not quite a bulletin. Sit with an accomplice in your current café venue or capture the moment itselfie or just one off the shelf behind the counter. I’m looking for that left bank feel of ristretto incision or smooth latte reflection.