Category Archives: value

THE GOLDEN FLEECE

The final three sections of my poem sequence The Golden Fleece. The earlier parts can be found here: Jason 1, Medea, Chiron. I suggest you start with those (in that order). HERCULES   1 Apples. Bread. Wine. And the camps … Continue reading

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Credit crunch

Near the bottom of this blog on the right, you’ll find a widget that tells you how much the blog is ‘worth’. Now, I don’t want to get into just what’s meant by ‘worth’, in this context or any other, … Continue reading

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Moi Soleil

I haven’t got a lot of time for Jeff Koons. After all, he ruined the reputation of Cicciolina, a perfectly respectable hard-working pornostar-cum-politician in the pre-Berlusconi days when politics in Italy was a serious matter. But I can’t see what’s … Continue reading

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THE GOLDEN FLEECE

This is the third section in the sequence of poems dedicated to the Golden Fleece. If you want to know what happened earlier, click on one and two. CHIRON 1 They’re pushing and shoving to get through the gate, where … Continue reading

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THE GOLDEN FLEECE

Why wait? This is the second sequence of the group: MEDEA 1 A wild west so fictitiousonly cowboys could live there.I leave my cave and take some clothes to the water.A fine dust in the waterstains them yellow. Someone arrivesand … Continue reading

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THE GOLDEN FLEECE

Time for a little verse, I think. This is the first part of a group of poems inspired specifically by the myth of the golden fleece and, obliquely, by Pasolini’s Medea (or maybe that should be the other way round). … Continue reading

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Your bodies, their bigotry

Amnesty International’s recent advocacy of abortion in the case of rape, incest or risk to the woman’s health has inevitably got up some clerical noses. One of the largest belongs to cardinal Martino, president of the Vatican’s Pontifical Council for … Continue reading

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Sunday lunch

Last Sunday, we went to have lunch in a trattoria in Borgo Grappa, one of a handful of satellite villages built under pre-war fascism between the sea and Latina, the whole area created ad hoc from the malarial Pontine marshes … Continue reading

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Grace… to be born and live…

Jane just sent me this photograph of a protest in Dalston Lane, in London, about houses and shops being demolished for some brand new city type development and it made me think of Grace Paley, who would no doubt be … Continue reading

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Reasons to be cheerful, if you’re Peter Kay

This article will probably have been blogged by just about every struggling writer in the English-speaking world. So why should I be left out? Sob. Any ideas who ‘Jane’ might be?

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