The Spanish press has been full of politicians making comments about poetry recently.
Or perhaps not. More exactly, Esperanza Aguirre (Partido Popular, presidenta de la Comunidad de Madrid) picked up on something I think Gallardón (her closest rival, also from the PP) said a while back, and referred to herself as el verso suelto dentro del poema.
“The unconnected line in the poem.”
What exactly does that mean?
Continue reading “political poets”
finds a cat-length patch of shade
whisker-wide and hidden
from curious, non-feline eyes.
He dapples into tabby grey.
Full moon over the neighbour’s chimney
Orion reaches
for a slam dunk.
Well, it’s January 7th and Christmas will soon be over. And about time, too.
Here in Spain the festivities begin back in early December: the Inmaculada is the 8th, but it tends to link up with the national Día de la Constitución on the 6th and there begins to be a general feeling that everyone’s getting psyched up for the holidays.
I’m in the city for a couple of days and spending the morning working at the computer in our fourth floor flat. There’s no one else around and I thought I’d have a few hours of peace and quiet to get the year end accounts organised ready to take to the accountant next week. Instead, it’s only just eleven o’clock and I’ve had to buzz open the main building door three times already – and all for postmen. Well, ok, postpeople, perhaps.
Continue reading “going postal”
don't confuse the narrator 