Glastonbury 2015 Diary: Part Three

Saturday

 

Going to See the Juice Man

As the sun shines

at eight ish

in the morning,

and the cigarette smoke

burns your eyes

as the hangover

kicks in again;

it sounds like

I’m speaking in code,

but the truth is

he’s just a man

who sells juice.

The busses

roll out

with their loaded

cargo,

and you should

go and sit

in the corner.

 

Had no money so went for walk – found cashpoint and emptied account, plus Laura had money in joint that I could borrow. Still not sure how to get home, but currently chilling out at Poetry and Words.

 

Always Zinc

Always answering

back begrudgingly,

calling Cthulhu’s

demonic darkness,

evil everywhere

for fireballs,

great garbage

heaps helping

insects in

June’s joy,

killing kittens

like life

means mortal

nothings, not

on our

pure principles,

quick quandaries

reeling, rancid,

sodden shit

‘til they

understand us,

violent violets

with weird

xBox xenophobia

yesterday you

zoomed zinc.

 

 

Watched some dance act for a while, then caught the end of the Antipoet and some of Jess Green and the Mischief Thieves (I think?), who smashed it, kind of like Kate Tempest but really good. Then left and came back to the end of another poet who talked about her Ugandan roots, who was good, followed by an open mic. I was better than most of the people (and all of the males), but as I was alone I thought it’d be weird to go up. Then back to the tent to chill and listen to The Waterboys, and the realisation that I missed Frank Turner. Walk to Other Stage and Young Fathers – pretty good, but finished pint and moved on to Glade for John Fairhurst, who was unmemorable but had good riffs.

 

Preservation

You could

hit me in the face

with a hand grenade,

and you could rage

and rave

until the voices fade,

but you won’t change

the way

I’m feeling.

We ration

life –

it’s what we do,

and it amazes me

how the same governments

which send soldiers to their deaths

fighting wars which we

(frankly) don’t belong in,

can also control the purse strings

when it comes to

preservation.

I wouldn’t trust those guys

with a packet of peanuts,

so what the hell

is going on?

Is this what we were born

for?

So they could apply

chloroform

in a thunderstorm?

I refuse

to be represented

by reprehensible entities,

I am my own man

and the voice of one

is never the voice of many,

and that includes me too,

reluctantly.

In the movies,

you can believe

the reluctant hero;

in reality,

reluctant heroes

are usually the most corrupt

of all,

and I’m tired.

I’ll still use my vote

though,

folks.

 

Then over to West Holts to see some jazzy band.

 

Reuben

So I just made friends

with a kid called Reuben,

maybe six years old

although I’ll admit

I’m not the best judge

and I’m four beers in

chaining cigarettes

when all of a sudden

he tells me he likes my wellies

because there are superheroes

somewhere beneath the mud,

and he’s dressed head to toe

as Iron Man

and so we’re talking

about our favourite superheroes –

Spiderman for him,

and Batman for me

because he’s fallible,

even though I hate superheroes –

and everything is going fine,

even though I’m not a paedophile

because I fucking hate kids

almost as much as

I hate fucking kids

and then he finds

this fake moustache

in the mud

and wants

to stick it

to my face

and Reuben’s dad

was like,

“Leave the man

alone.”

Reuben’s dad

seemed like a nice man,

and in 20 years’ time,

that kid’ll be headlining,

unless he tries to attach a moustache

to the wrong kind of person.

 

Drank a lot and tried to write poems. I was drunk, but I made it to Foreign Beggars at Arcadia, then stumbled on to Sly and the Family Stone at West Holts.

 

Notes Where Mushrooms Grow

She is definitely

a waterfall,

and just my handwriting

is a study

in what spiders do.

She is

delightfully

George Clinton,

and all I can think of

is the way she smiles

and she acts surprised

like she doesn’t know

my words

are about her.

She

lights up the sky

and I would die

for her smile.

 

After that, I caught the end of Kanye, and I think I ate something. Then I wandered for a bit and bought a hat, more wandering what a time to be alive, then back to pass out.

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