Big thanks to Randolph for his Cork(ers). My spare liver came home on the
plane in a bag and has now been resituated successfully, acting as a bilge
pump to our garden pond. An instance of 'we' I'm happy to sanction.
I wanted to say up here on the big public spaces how energising the Cork
Conference was / is. Sure, it rained a drop. Trevor Joyce's house
overflowed with hospitalities. Nourishments ranged from the Cafe Paradiso
to AbraKebabRa.
But (not despite but due and thanks to that) - the poetry and the poetics
was sound the way through; extremely strong readings, provocative papers,
buoyant exchanges. Anybody with half a mind to go next year (and I believe
there will be a next year) should put it into their priority commitment
calendar on the front-burner right now.
Modesty forbade Randolph from commenting on his own reading, so I'd like to
add to his otherwise generous account that, despite two cracked ribs and a
savagely bitten tongue, he gave a terrific presentation of the
anagrammatically encrypted 'The Republic of Ireland' (itself taxing the
ribs of those present), various excerpts from '25 Poems', 'Flame' and the
chilling closing section of his more recent 'Scales' that leaves only the
word 'whereas' proud of dense blocks of erasure on what I understand to be
the United Nations Charter. I'm left still wondering in what ways to
transact 'Satin Mac In Sale' to the coastline and its offshore reaches
below the walkable twists of Cork City itself.
many thanks and greetings to all
love and love
cris
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