fragment 201
by kvennarad
© Marie Marshall
My three-part poem Savoy Rooms, all about being an early-teenage ‘mohair girl’ in London in the late 1960s, is published in the September tranche of poems at Writing After Fifty.
Kvenna ráð
Call off your dogs. Let's talk.
Kvenna ráð 
i’m totally crazy about your writings – they inspire me – I relate to them – they’re true art – exquisite texture, colour, form – thankyou for enriching my life – and they keep me in touch with the true meaning of poetry …Tony Chapman
Jings, thank you Tony!
very seasonal
yeh, lots of people been writing autumn shtuff
while meanwhile outside in the elusive transcendence
there’s lots of sweating that remains.
oh… gotta go. that sun is out again.
I see you, Steve – you’re the guy who taped the letters ‘SM’ to his forehead so that when he peeled them away after summer they’d appear in pink on his bronzed face. Most people wouldn’t assume they were your initials, though.
Homefront – seasonal, yes I suppose it is. But then again I can’t escape that sound…
hope i’m wearing a smile….that whipping wind can be very enticing when seated in observance of its awe. geez, that sounded so much better than i thought it.
A smile and an MCC tie. Very little else. Surreal.
had a lot of fun with MCC possibilities and dream of an informal Matagami Canoe Club. a “confluence of waters,” almost naked.
a nice omen. thank you.
LOVE apple-fall….and congrats on the publication
Thank you, Claudia.
ironic and colorful bio of you! and we almost learned your astrological horrorscope, but seriously, those three poems in writing after 50..if i can use a new expression recently absorbed…are “tight” as in stylish and all together in what they try to convey is open to the reader or maybe it’s open.
ironic in that zen is supposed to help make “life so simple” .
and agoraphobics visiting the witch doctor on an Elizabethan reggae raft reads like the future.
i’ve heard of 70 year youngeons traveling to jamaica or some such equivalent. i raise a toast of orange juice this fine morning to your health! cheers!
The three poems were written in 2008 as (kinda) vignettes within a single presentation. Really within the same scene. The ‘Savoy Rooms’ was a dancehall in S E London; the ‘Witchdoctor’ was the soft-drinks bar in there. There was little talk, little thought, much posing. I idolised one girl in a tailored mohair Jackie Kennedy suit in Prince of Wales check. I usually wore my sister’s Trevira suit (borrowed [stolen] for the evening). I never wore a Parka.
a happy little tune to ride around on a moped?
or be inside a club googling someone in the pre-google way.
sounds like sincere acts trapezing between self consciousness and submerging in the scene. thanks for sharing. i’m better at seeing when i have information.