The Big L

Yesterday was my birthday and my wife treated me to two presents in three phases. First she gave me poetry and then a surprise party. Those were the presents - the phases, while related to the presents, are more complicated: The first phase stretched from February 1996 to the present day and promises to continue. The second phase can be pinpointed to have started at almost exactly 3.30 yesterday afternoon, and it could well be over by now (at least the guests have gone home). Anyway, there is no sign that the third phase has started yet, so it may well be entirely mythological...

The poetry was very good yesterday, as it materialised for the first time in the form of a publication that wasn't labelled criticism or theory, but actually 'poetry'. Camelia has always wanted to be a published poet, and I've referred to her as one ever since her first 'academic' piece appeared in 1999. As I recall, that piece referred to Wittgenstein, as does the most recent manifestation of her poetical prowess, Eight Senses Plus One... As I further recall, none of the many interceding works, nor the first and the latest contain the word 'poshes'. This, the critics find surprising and a potential shortcoming, but that is about the only one they've spotted so far. Bah-bah! they say happily and insistently (critics are usually sheep, but rarely as literally as in this case...)

Yesterday, I didn't do a thank you speech, but here it is: Thank you all for contributing, being a captive audience and moving along your merry way with a nice chapbook in hand, bag or pocket!

I'm going to quote one of the poems, not the shortest nor maybe even the best, but the one that riffs on the L word. From Unison:

It occurs to me that cloning sounds a bit like loony baloney. My husband says, quoting John Lennon: "all you need is love." "It's a good beginning," I say. "The letter L has just cloned itself." Accompanied by Bach it turns itself into a (singing) number. More. Or less.

I figure George Clooney is loony-ballooning in there somewhere, but I'll settle for being a fifty-something like most of the great leading men seem to be these days. Fifty, fit and fighting, I embrace the One Big L.