Having just come back from Otherworld myself, this resonates - the little
things that would become easier - the coins and so on. I like the gentle way
you draw us from these prosaic metonyms to a very effective metaphor for the
sense of incompleteness of homesickness.
My only quibble is 'local pubs no-one here will know' - which implies the
locals are nobodies....
Terri )O(
-----Original Message-----
From: The Pennine Poetry Works [mailto:[log in to unmask]] On Behalf
Of Bob Cooper
Sent: 22 August 2006 16:17
To: [log in to unmask]
Subject: When Not Having A Guitar...
All coments welcome:
When Not Having A Guitar To Play The Blues
It might be thought when I walk the streets I'm a citizen.
I'm even mumbled to in Czech. But even though I stroll quickly,
have a casual knowledge of currency, choosing coins by touch,
and seeing when the adverts on the Metro have changed,
here is still elsewhere. I'm aware of swearwords, bus-stops, local pubs
no-one here will know. And when the washing up's done,
my coffee's cooling, I close my eyes, hear rhythms that need lyrics
and in moments no-one's aware of they get sung.
Bob Cooper
|