Birtill
PAUL Birtill has been shaking a fist at the world through his poetry for the past 23 years – and now fans of the Liverpudlian-born, Belsize Park-based writer can enjoy his output in an anthology covering his works from 1987 to the present day. His work covers the topics that confronted him, tickled him, enraged and soothed him: from Militant politics to ill health, drink, family and friendship, this anthology has enough to make you laugh and cry – not a bad outcome. Paul moved to London in the 1980s, in time to watch the grip of Thatcherism lay waste to the city around him, giving his early work a political hue. “Of course much of my poetry is autobiographical,” he says. “I draw on those incidents that happen to you each day: incidents. I recall from my childhood, incidents from the previous day.” He casts an outsider’s eye over the city: in the caustic Patriotic White Youth, he is dismissive of the get-rich-quick culture that told people their lives would be infinitely improved if they were to buy into the Thatcher dream of buying their council homes. He slams “Tattoos and flash wheels / nice little earners and thuggery...” and “...loud-mouthed show-offs won’t be / ruled by Socialism, the cripple / beggar creed of Northern losers...” – ending with stanzas with the mantra: “Cockneys make me sick.” Medical conditions feature, as do wafts of pub chat, all captured by an ear that intrinsically scoops up conversation.
Birtill
Birtill
Birtill
Birtill
Birtill
Birtill
Birtill
Birtill
Birtill
No comments:
Post a Comment