..but this one

here

might be.

These Books

                                                                                                                                                       

 here

and here

They're not REAL you know

Poverty Tourism: Meet The Loser

Talking to Michael Rosen today during our annual conversation at early morning codgers stretching hour at the Latitude Festival inspired something unexpected. Last year we chatted about the miners strikes on the 30th anniversary and this year we exchanged views and experiences of the 'family justice gravy train' (my terminology). What was unexpected was the idea of poverty tourism.

It soon became obvious from the conversation that both of our experiences involved winners, losers and those on the receiving end of inequitable economic and social justice..

I came away feeling that I would like to invite Michael to Great Yarmouth to offer something to our common efforts to invent a 'cultural economy' in the town.

It seems to me that we are working largely blind, with little understanding of the term 'culture' or, more problematically 'cultural heritage', let alone the mysterious thing which we call a cultural economy or 'cultural tourism'...

I found myself imagining inviting Michael to Yarmouth to have him recite some of his children's poetry in Peggoty's of a Saturday afternoon. I don't know why, I just did.

I like Michael Rosen. So does everyone else it turns out. But I've done stretching with him and I'm going to get him to come to Yarmouth!

bumba rice

our faces add up to an equal sign
small bone addition and lip curl
all equate to a justice of faces
and red line through a turned up nose

Sparring on this: happiness is -

(jamming)

triumph and treats of troubadours
melodious funk in the attic
me got a twist in me cheek and jowl
dem gone all CASH IN DE ATTIC

But me kyan hope and pain in yar idal eyes
waiting time for some paparatchick
whatever you see now is i don't mind

bullets, comas, come for a sashlick?

Boris Porridge Trophy (BPT)

where there's a bill there's a beak
don't make a monkey of me
you'll be eating hospital food
with a spoon for weeks
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
mildew on a discarded wood pulp cup:

(wood pulp cup wood pulp cup
o how i do love thee wood pulp cup)

This year Battersea played Rotherhide for
the Wood Pulp Cup in its centenary 150th year.

On this historic occasion, the towns of London and Sheffield
had all agreed not to wear clothes for the whole day
to mark the occasion .

The mayor of London said: "mmm blleergh yeah arm, ya!"

as he handed the Rotherhide captain Leofric Egan the historic cup and the crowd looked on completely nakedly...

"Thanks' Leofric said according to a panel of lip reading journalists who looked on from the dug out.

and then: "Porridge".

"Porridge"? Boris was reported to have repeated, in puzzlement.

"Ya" cam the reply of Leofric, a known nazi sympathiser, taxi driver and bird watcher.

As the twitching fascist left to greet his colleagues with the trophy, naked journalist Anna Hamberley asked him how he felt:

"This is a fantastic day for Rotherhide, naked journalism and wood pulp" said the fascistic bird lover.