Kooks, I've scrapped my song, Nothing.
'What?! ... Why?!'
Oh, why, why, why ... ?!?!?!
Ooo ooo ooo!
'O heavenly powers, restore him!'
Ha!
'It's one of your best songs, Mikey.'
Yeah, yeah.
But you haven't heard the rest of the news, my little invisible friend.
'What?'
As I was sort of suggesting in that conceptual yesterday ... I've turned the Nothing lyric into a poem called There's nothing.
'Oh.'
Only 34 lines, BUT(!) ... the poem is so good it almost outshines my big free verse poem of 156 lines!
'Yippee! A result!'
Yes, it's a result. And I'm very happy.
Very happy.
Very happy.
And I can still use the music of Nothing at a later date.
I just couldn't resist, you dig?
I won't tell you how GREAT(!) this poem is, my kooks, because - knowing you - you won't believe me.
'Slags!'
Ha!
But you'll find out one day.
I mean, if I have to hit the road soon ... I'll send it to Poetry Review ... with the big one, and maybe a little one.
I have six poems now.
Listen! Even the greatest songs are only songs, man ... only a part of popular culture. That goes for Dylan, Cohen, anyone.
This poem will still be read in five hundred years ... unless the robots have done us all in.
In the year 2525 ... etc.
However ...
I'm staying positive!
And you're probably thinking, "This guy's crazy!"
Christ.
You had to be there to believe it.
You really had to be there.
'Where?'
Christmas Day, Voice ... on the beach with the ghosts of Yeats and Heaney.
'Oh yeah, the dream.'
Of course the dream!
I've actually lost count of the number of mystical experiences I've had in my life, but this dream was SOMETHING ELSE ...
It was so powerful
It was so visionary
It was so real - !!!
Laters.
