I was in Barcelona last week. I went to visit friends and see Ryley Walker at Sidecar, a little club on Placa Reial. On the Thursday the heavens opened and it poured down.
The first poem was written after it had stopped.
Barcelona 15.11.18.
it feels as if the sky has broken
as our car surfs through the downpour
as our car surfs through the downpour
raindrops the size of dinner
plates splatter the road
the traffic lights fail
as lightening cracks overhead
Old Testament weather you proclaim
and it is difficult to disagree.
This next one I wrote on the train travelling south down the coast to visit friends for the day.
and there is always some bloke
man spread and bellowing
telling his friends he’s on the train
telling his friends he’s on the train
convinced he’s the Samuel Pepys of the digital age
as he relates in mind numbing detail
the contents of his sandwich
the contents of his sandwich
we slowly progress towards the point when he will say
that he will be withthem in a minute
because he can see the platform
because he can see the platform
as he departs a strange silence will fall until
another observant male
informsthe carriage that he is on a train
informsthe carriage that he is on a train
Originally it was a prose poem but when I came to type it up it seemed to sit better on the page as free verse. It may change yet.
I shall leave you with some Ryley Walker. Sadly there is no footage from Sidecar, but here’s some from Madrid.
I shall leave you with some Ryley Walker. Sadly there is no footage from Sidecar, but here’s some from Madrid.
Until next time.