travelling with Out of True as it was intended

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So, one day in the mail, this little green book arrived. Poetry?

Who reads poetry these days?

Oh, I know. Guy Clark does. He says this in one of my favourite of his songs:

Here’s a book of poems I got
From a girl I used to know
I guess I read it front to back
Fifty times or so
It’s all about the good life
And stayin’ at ease with the world
It’s funny how I love that book
And I never loved that girl

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Then I went to London, where I met @elaine4queen and this is a photo of her upon first seeing my copy of Out of True. As good as it is, it’s even better with a cuppa.

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Then there was sleeping and such…upon awakening, it turned out Poppet ‘ad been readin’ a bit of poetry on her own while I wasn’t looking. How twee is that, innit?

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Here’s where our Elaine finally takes a gander at the ol’ book itself. She’s awestruck. ‘That’s some top shelf poetry there, I tell you what!’ I hear her exclaim.

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Then later I was in another café in London and I met this lovely couple from Edinburgh. Although I had my copy of Out of True with me, we didn’t talk about it. There’s no real reason for me to include this photo…I just liked them.

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Here’s a photo of the book and my copy of Myrtle Takes Tea in the same café that I was with the Scottish couple.

And finally, a photo of the book on a pile of money with a baritone ukulele. Because it’s my damned blog and I can do whatever I want here.

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Before I forget: the poet is Amy Durant. She’s a friend. A good poet, but an exceptional friend. You can read her daily musings at Lucy’s Football (lucysfootball.com), and although her posts are long and rambling and often have only a very thin connection to reality, she’s that sort of writer you should keep an eye on.

She’s going somewhere – that Amy Durant. Those crazy eyes? ALL. THE. CAPS. She’s going somewhere, for reals. Luckily, she’s promised to take us with her.

9 comments

  1. I can’t believe BOTH of you kept this secret. You are TRICKY. And also Elaine! And Poppet! ALL of you kept this secret! (I’m most impressed with Poppet’s secret-keeping. Dogs are notoriously loose-lipped. Good job, Poppet!)

    So I was at work, and I had this five-minute break, and I saw this and I was all, “what is this?” and then I cried. RIGHT AT WORK. This is just…I can’t even. This is fantastic.

    If I’m exceptional, it’s only because I’m trying to live up to your exceptionalness. That’s not a word. I don’t even care. Poets can make up words, if we want to. It’s a thing we can do. It says so on my Poet’s Membership Society card. What, you other poets don’t have one? Huh. Guess I’m just special, then.

    Thank you. I got to bon vivant with you. That’s – yeah. Thank you. So much.

  2. I can’t believe I got this book on Kindle. How will I display it properly? Worse… what if I meet Amy, and I have NOTHING for her to sign? I wonder if she would sign my Kindle.

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