Happy Phantom Billstickers National Poetry Day

There is a truckload of poetry events on today – I am going to at least three.

Check out Fiona Oliver’s post on National Library blog.

Send a poem to a friend – on a postcard, in an email, by snail mail.

Support our poetry publishers and buy a poetry book or three.

Give your favourite poetry book to someone.

Make up a poem using no more than twelve words.

Have afternoon tea with friends and talk about a poem that eludes you, or soothes you, or sparks or spikes you.

I am not brave enough but try reading a poem in a public place – on a pavement or bus or train.

Try poem busking.

w e l l i n g t o n        h e r e    I    come !

My gift is to post my IBBY presentation on line today which feels a little scary as I couldn’t sleep the night before I gave it.

(Behind every stone or refrigerator hum or cup of tea there is a poem. I feel like I have spent the night in an air-conditioning unit waiting for the silence of home.)

The Reading (for Peter Ireland)

New York City is Wellington

Wellington is Thistle Hall

and James Brown

is reading Frank O’Hara

with a slight sway, the sun

blinding like free verse halos

but still the couple

in the flat opposite smooth

the cushions, butter scones

phone  a friend, take

out the rubbish,

before Helen Rickerby

takes to the stage

and reads Rome.