The best thing about being a guy who speaks English as second language and read poem is that… You simply don’t need to care how bad you are, and how bad those listening to you think how bad you are. Because…yeah I am bad. So?
Putting the Philip Larkin’s collection aside for a couple of years, reading other things, and then come back to read it again; to pick up at where I dropped out last, sounds like a Super Band’s reunion. Yeah, quite like I left my band, doing some projects I had fancied, and came back being a more mature man. A more mature reader. Sounds fun. At that time I dropped out I read some other poets: Kae Tempest, Seamus Heaney, Patti Smith…(Not many). I like compare Seamus Heaney’s poems with Philip Larkin’s. The former feel young; the latter sound old, and the fear of getting old. So, now, Philip’s a win to me, an older self being anxious of getting older. Dying. Relatable. But this comparison is no way being right or objective. After all, I have read so few of them. So few poems. In poetry, I am young.
Alright. Hope you enjoy. Or not. I don’t care. I don’t need to. Cheers.
ASortaHarvey 