Songs Like Little Flowers

They were talking about poetry now. Even though I don’t write or read poetry I was excited. The idea of it is so romantic and lovely. Writing in a condensed form, which more often than not implies and hints at, rather than serving it all up on a china plate.

Much the same as everyone else, I fell in love with Sharon Olds straight away. She wore her hair in two long, thick strands down either side of her kind face. She had these big antique classes on, that all the Granny’s seem to wear, even now, in this modern era. How do they keep finding them? Why aren’t there new old people things?

She seemed special and I hung off her every word. She wasn’t putting on a show, or trying to be funny, she was just being her. Her poems washed over me like warm rose water. I closed my eyes and submerged fully. A smile spread across my sanguine face. ‘I like to make songs that look like little flowers’ she said. I liked that.

In the beginning, I didn’t like Peter Goldsworthy, he looked like a stuck up doctor and it seemed for every lovely thing Sharon said, he had something mechanical to retort with. He was smothering her with technicalities.

It turns out I was being over protective. Peter actually is a doctor and an accomplished writer- and he’s not that stuck up. I liked his sense of humour and his brave brashness. He made crass jokes about Methodists and fucking and cheekily told Sharon that her next husband might be a doctor too.

It was a fantastic session, by two wonderfully talented humans. I eagerly lined up to buy my first book of poetry ever and I got it signed by Olds.