Zealotry

Andrew Bailey


Leave a comment

Bees

Making tea is supposed to be a boring anchor to the morning, but on Friday there was a cloud of interesting visible through the kitchen window: a swarm of bees had found the slightly-open lid of our composter. It’s not a hugely exciting narrative from here: we found the owner, he came round to collect them, and told us they’d been there long enough to make four and a half inches of honeycomb, and there had been a queen and, what, fifteen or twenty thousand of the things in there. And that we shouldn’t be in that garden for a couple of hours in case there were any returning from foraging and growing confused and angry. [We obeyed in the pub.] I worry slightly that such a thing feels like a blessing; I’m glad we found a good home rather than pest control. J’s sad because there are a couple of bees that have been lurking there all weekend, one trying to get in the compost bin’s lid even though we’ve sealed it properly, the other guarding her as she tries.

Sadly I wasn’t brave enough to take photos.


Leave a comment

Silver lining time

Did I get thirty poems from thirty days? no, but twenty-some isn’t bad. Of which I like a few, at least as starting points. That’s something. It felt a bit more of a chore this year than when I’ve done it before, which might mean I chose a bad theme as much as it not being the right thing for me to do any more. 


1 Comment

Napowrimo 2013

The deal, I tell myself, is this: if you do the poem-a-day challenge, it’s about quantity, and we deal with quality later – pull out unexpected good ones, or more likely good bits, or polishable things, in the months that follow. Just produce. Only this year I’m letting myself down on both sides. Still, I pressed send on the skaldic response piece for tomorrow a day early, and happy as I am with that bit it doesn’t fit the theme I’m trying to work to. And so back to it.


Leave a comment

Aggressive Interview #3

Over at Gists and Piths I have been interviewed aggressively by George Ttoouli, and have, I hope, kicked back appropriately. The link is here: Andrew Bailey, Aggressive Interview #3. It’s the third in a series, alongside Carrie Etter and Rupert Loydell – you can see all of them through the tag, ie at http://gistsandpiths.blogspot.co.uk/search/label/Aggressive%20Interview, which will also save this post from going out of date if they keep their labelling up to date. There’s an invitation on mine to offer yourself up for similar aggression, and I’d recommend it. I enjoyed this very much.

That George link, incidentally, is his appearance at I Don’t Call Myself a Poet, a collection of interviews that more than repays the time spent exploring them. He’s responsible for my reading The Gift. Carrie, who was aggressive interview #2, is responsible for me agreeing to do another April of poems. That, in turn, is responsible for me finally updating here rather than getting on with that, where I’m already behind.


Leave a comment

'The Necropolis Boat' by Luke Kennard

Reblogged from Sabotage:

Click to visit the original post

-Reviewed by Andrew Bailey-

Luke Kennard’s The Necropolis Boat has a subtitle that offers a handy way in to the sequence: “Five songs and a tortured context”. Let’s trust that. Let’s start with the songs.

Each is titled ‘The Great Necropolis Songbook’, from #1 to #5, and most use the kind of end-stopping rhymes that explain their hobbled rhythms as the result of hitting a chime that doesn’t arise naturally:

Read more… 709 more words

I am reviewing at Sabotage again.


Leave a comment

'mimesis, synaptic' by Laressa Dickey

Reblogged from Sabotage:

Click to visit the original post

-Reviewed by Andrew Bailey-

So it turns out one way to incline this reviewer positively to your book is to pack it like the sweets I used to get from the corner shop. We know this thanks to Miel, from whom a pamphlet arrived that I wanted to praise even before seeing it, simply because it came in a white paper bag with serrations on the opening.

Read more… 912 more words

Here's me over at Sabotage again, reviewing a set of prose poems I enjoyed in December. The email to the editor went missing over Christmas and when I was nudged for it I decided I wanted to change things as I had seen things I could fix at the start; fixing those broke the end. Like a Rubik's cube, hopefully solved now.
Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 412 other followers