I’m now in the midst of my Easter break back at home – although, to all intents and purposes, my first year at university ended just over a week ago. I’m going back anyway, but for the next couple of weeks, I’ll focus on getting the last four assignments for the year done, while looking at what I’ve already accomplished with a great deal of pride. My marks this year have been very consistent (although nothing counts until Year 2) and I have learnt much and grown creatively. Approximately 7,000 words in total lie ahead of me during this break, and I hope can be as pleased with those as I am with what has gone before. Having such confidence in my work is very rare, since the self-doubt almost always kicks in once something is finished!
I’ve now submitted my poetry portfolio, and in time you may well see the whole thing here. For now, though, I just want to show you the poem that concludes it, as an example of flarf poetry. In class, we were told to think of two completely random words and enter them into Google so that we could write something using its search results. I chose “grassy brick”, which meant that I swiftly came across a set of instructions on how to grow grass in an old brick. I adapted these into stanzas – with some artistic licence – and I ended up with a simple and surreal final poem that didn’t take itself too seriously. I wouldn’t have ended the portfolio any other way. It’s called “Gardening For a New Generation”, and it goes like this:
“Gardening for a new generation.
Plant a seed in an urban jungle.
What will you need?
A brick, glazed, strictly non-porous;
Nothing else will do.
Blow away the dust and the cobwebs,
The ghost of a hardened hand.
Make it wet, soften the stone to sand,
Eat that pie on the windowsill;
You’ll need the tin tomorrow.
Half an inch of water will give new life.
Bless the brick with more,
As it sits in its bakelite bathtub.
Watch the cheap seeds sprout;
You’ll like grass, it’s hardy.”