Tuesday, 5 October 2010


Mimi Khalvati reads her sestina about elephants. I have a sestina called, 'Elephant'. I decide to read it. Let there be more than one elephant in the room.

Otherwise a bout of colds going the rounds.

Norman Wisdom died yesterday. I saw some of his films at the cinema as a boy. There is a long study to be made of the amiable, unglamorous, positively incompetent idiot falling in love with the glamorous but not too scary blonde who acts part mother, part elder sister to the good-hearted nincompoop and finally becomes his love match. Chaplin, Fernandel, Formby, Wisdom. I am sure this says something about male-female romantic relations, but will not venture onto that ground yet.

Late, close to midnight. The blue remembered hills invisible in the dark.


Titus said...

Hello George, I have merely come to see you because you're in The Poetry Bus Magazine.
Why does your name sound familiar? Are you famous?

Titus said...

Ooh, just looked at your website. You are.

Poet in Residence said...

I've got a book with a startling cover around here somewhere or other, perhaps in a banana box; it's a book of poems by Mimi Kahlvati and I'm sure they are wonderful but I'm blowed if I can find it. Unfortunately it is one of those books too tall to go on a normal bookshelf. A clear case of more is less. Writers, especially poets (if they want to be read) should never agree to tall books!
Last night I went to a lecture about a certain Dr. Hyrtl who once performed an autopsy on an elephant's head. Hyrtl has the disinction of being the last known person to hold the skull of Mozart in his hand. Unfortunately the good doctor is long since dead so we can't ask him what he did with it.