THE PRIZE GIVING
Our celebratory evening
marks the end of three years of study
There we were in the campus bookshop
you me and the book seller
It could have been a dream
some bibliophiles best fantasy
of course there was smoke
that’s why we huddled in the backroom
The formal celebration
went on around us without us
As we passed an ember from hand to hand
then another and then another
In honour of the occasion
we decided to award ourselves prizes
[in other less colourful circles
I think they call it stealing]
You chose Gunter Schuller on jazz
such a thick tome
Serious
so at odds with our evening
My eye fixed on Uncle the Elephant
a particular warm memory of my childhood
I have it still
the pages aged and yellowed
I read it to my children
but never told them how I acquired it
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There are a number of things I am uncertain about this poem. I am not sure I set the scene effectively and I worry there is no resolution, just an memory that hinges on an old paperback. Watch this space.
Hurray For The Riff Raff has a new live album out.
Until next time.
