Trust the Dishcloth
At Free Verse on Saturday 26th April, where we sold a phenomenal £700 of mags, someone asked me how to stop explaining their grief in their poems. Or rather, they wanted to and I told them they shouldn’t. They said they always wanted to add a footnote — a paragraph at the end to make sure people understood what their poems are about.
I said: don’t.
I said: Think about the dishcloth.
In that moment an idea came to me. Among the hubbub of the fair. What if grief was a dishcloth? And you found it behind the sofa, or under a cabinet, cleaning your house. And it isn’t your loved one but it represents everything about them.
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