Interactive version of Oliver's Poetry Garret
Letter from Laura
Thursday, 22 June 2006, Blog 17
Hotel Ibis, Euston. I am holed up in a little hotel, cheek by jowl with Euston Station, on Day-Job business. It has been great fun. I went to a very interesting Think Tank yesterday in a lovely fish restaurant in Covent Garden, and had another formal meal and informal discussion at a gentlemen's club in the evening.
I have enjoyed it here. I logged onto this computer yesterday - in the lobby at 9p-a-minute - and picked up an email from my cousin Laura, of whom I am very fond. I was delighted to read that she wants to submit a poem and has been reading my blogs.
Amusingly, she observed that there was no need to ask my news, she already knew every detail of it! Laura is a great talent. I really hope she does send me some of her poems for the site.
I also had a great chat with my dear friend DJ E - which was fantastic. He is such a brilliant friend and so funny.
I awoke at 5am, bright sunshine streaming through my window, my eyes rather bloodshot. The feisty lady on Radio 2 was going on about the Anglican Communion facing schism again. I recall being with Rowan Williams once and asking him about this issue. The Archbishop of Canterbury pretended to headbutt a nearby pillar and said: 'People think I can fix this, but I can't.'
A very good man - with an impossible job!
Poems by Laura Taylor: Clouds Overhead, Lie & Die and Guilt.
Blue Tuesday.
Flashback to Tuesday, May 16, 2006
Lewes-London Bridge train. Plumpton, near Lewes. 6.11am. Slept OK, although on my stomach for once, which meant I awoke in great pian from my back. Think I must have got to sleep at around eleven, so I had six hours and 20 minutes of shut eye.
I had a cup of tea from Vic's cafe at Lewes Station and wondered if I can get away with dropping one of the Diazepam tabs that the Welsh doctor prescribed for me. It would help me sleep the rest of the way to London and make me happier today... I have done it.
It was very nice to hear from Mary yesterday. She is a good friend and kindly person. I am delighted that she liked my poetry. 7.48am. London Marylebone. London-Warwick train. Looking out of the window at the disgruntled faces of the commuters arriving at London Marylebone. God, they look unhappy, whereas, despite my back pain, I cannot stop smiling. I feel great! The wonder of medical drugs, eh?
Do you realise that the reason there is a shortage of GPs is that the Government has increased their pensions to £45,000 per annum - yes, 45 grand a year! - and many of them are retiring early. Medicine is such a gravy train and the public, thanks to our useless government, has been taken for a ride.
For instance, when I went to see Dr Jet on Friday, she seemed to take no interest in my back. Most GPs are useless. I have learnt more about curing my back problems from reading an article in yesterday's Guardian than I have from my two consultations with her, for which her palm will have been crossed with silver.
Leamington Garret. 6.55pm by Big Ken, the Clock Tower although I fear he may be a few minutes slow.
I arrived back at the Leamington Garret to find my bicycle in pieces. My flatmate has clearly borrowed it (I did not even think he had the key to the lock), got a puncture and smashed the front light.
10pm. This evening I went for a walk around Leamington with my camera to try to cheer myself up. I took a load of photographs and then, when I tried to rewind the completed film, it jammed and snapped. In a rage, I opened up the back of the camera and ripped out the film and threw it into the nearest bin. I could have probably paid through the nose to have it rescued at Jessops, but felt such fury with life that I just wanted to destroy it.
I then put in another film and went round Leamers snapping away at tremendous rate. I saw a huge fracas outside Burger King with a girl lying on the ground screaming out in agony, while numerous apemen slugged it out around her.
The police rolled up eventually in three patrol cars and then stood around like loose pricks doing nothing much. Typical! Royal Leamington Spa is a rough little town.
After I had shot 36 pictures, I dropped by my local Roman Catholic church, St Peter Apostle. Unfortunately, it was all locked up with a chained gate blocking my entrance.
They have less security at the rough and nearby Rio's nightclub!
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