So, the first proofs of me life's work 'Jewel' to be published by the lovely people at Salmon poetry have arrived. This is exciting and terrifying.Exciting because someone is going to put my poems into a real book that will be in bookshops and terrifying because someone is going to put my poems into a real book that will be in bookshops.
I mean when you write the things, you're slamming words together in drunken abandon not giving a flying fuck about anything because nobody's ever going to actually see the bloody things except yourself, the dog, and possibly the wife.It's just like having a poo, nothing much to look at but you're glad you've done it. But now that poo isn't going to be discreetly flushed away, oh no, people (admittedly probably very few , but still) will be looking at my poo and possibly dissecting it to see what's in it or what it means about its creator.A poetic kind of Gillian McKeefe could tell an awful lot from a single stool/poem. I'm laying my nuts on the line here and people might kick them or worse drive a train over them. Now that's going to hurt, big time!
But looking on the brighter side
I'm hoping that someone somewhere might be kind to my poo and find a sweetness in it that they like, Im hoping that maybe at least one single person somewhere will be moved by my movements, that's gotta be good enough?Make it all worthwhile? Right? I'm right? Aren't I?