Tim Tomlinsons Comments
Bow and Arrow
My streets of early sorrow
When I was eighteen, I lived aboard a research vessel anchored off Morganís Bluff, Andros, in the Bahamas.† On Friday nights Id get drunk in Nicholls Town, two miles away, and walk back to my skiff along the Bluff Road.† The encounters I had on those walks seem as if they couldnít have happened, but they did.
Neighbors at 9 AM
An unconscious influence might be Pablo Nerudas Walking Around, which I discovered by accident on some endless Sunday poking around the New York Times Magazine.† I loved the turns the poem took, and its undercurrent of violence.† It felt closer to me than Little Lamb, who made thee?
Fuck the Troops
Sometimes while waiting around in airports I do some automatic writing and later, when transcribing, I see whats come up.† Fuck the Troops grew out of one of those sessions.† For the record, I love the troops, in the way Tim OBrien loved/s the troops.† What I hate is the way hypocrites use the troops as an excuse to advance hideous, hateful agendas that are actually harmful to the troops and other living things.
Morning in Islington
My wife and I lived two years in Islington in Central London.† We spent hours staring out our windows at the gardens and fountains and pedestrians and sunrises.† Sometimes we saw foxes, and sometimes I thought, Little Fox, who made thee?†††
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FRiGG: A Magazine of Fiction and Poetry | Issue 29 | Summer 2010