Robert Vas Dias in the Cow Shed at Lower Shaw Farm
A lesson in perky reading, I had to remind myself that although he sounds American, he’s lived in England for a long time. So it’s not weird that he writes about teapots and their murky colour: ‘A brown that insults taste but forestalls criticism.’
He likes writing about still life. A drinking glass: ‘a brittle convenience of a restless abstraction.’
Deadheading the Petunias was a microcosm of a marriage, beginning with a poorly executed flower pruning, ending with a ‘Go fuck yourself’. Been there.
Another line, trying to negotiate relationship politics: ‘My eyebrows smelled like smoke from a barbecue.’ Been there.
There was lots of laughter. Festival director Hilda had a poem dedicated to her, one about an angel that lands in a garden, looking down, Do Angels Eat?.
“I ask her if she’d like a cup of tea, would you like a cup of tea? I feel like an idiot, how would you feel asking an angel if she’d like a cup of tea, do angels eat? It’s said they like manna but I haven’t got any, don’t even know what it is, have no idea where to buy it.”
I asked how she felt about the comparison. ‘One of my favourite poems,’ she told me. Doesn’t get much better than that.
Post by Louisa Davison
Louisa Davison is also known as Agent Louisa at Secret Agent Marketing
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