The lockdown requirements continue to tighten (rightly so). Meanwhile, the realm of imagination and creativity expands and contracts with the cycle of the moon.I've long been fascinated with the psychogeographical meanderings of the Situationists/Lettrists or Flâneurs and I'm using these days to stretch my meanderings. I'll be going on a series of walks from the comfort of my writing table over the next few days. But before I do, a poem about one of our greater flâneurs. Ladies and Gentlemen Dr John Cooper Clarke.
Le grands Flâneur (for Dr JCC)
And there he was
on the radio
and to think I thought he was dead
Sharkskin suit
skinny tie
and a voice BBC still dread
Highway 61 shades
A book of verse
And Rapier wit
A heroin addiction
And a rogueish charm
With added northern grit
He’s the ultimate Boulavardier
He’s Le grands Flâneur
He’s the man I always knew he was
The British Baudeliare
Manchester’s Messiah
He’s the man I always dreamt he was
He’s the ultimate Boulavardier
He’s Le grands Flâneur
He’s the man I always knew he was
The British Baudeliare
Manchester’s Messiah
He’s the man I always dreamt he was.
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