Liz Greenfield

If I told you you have asthma,
would you come to Switzerland with me,
or just tell me I'm not a doctor?

And if I told you you have Type 2 Diabetes,
would you ask for a second opinion,
or a first opinion, because I'm not a doctor?

And if I told you I am a doctor, actually,
would you be happy for me, or just sad
that you're so ill?

First rehearsal for Cheltenham Poetry Festival today. Thanks to Paul and Nicholas, who are working on some excellent visuals for the show, we have access to probably one of the coolest studios in Bristol.

So no one told me life was gonna be this way
I watched that episode of Friends today
where Ross proposes to the English girl
and then Monica, Phoebe, and Rachel all go mental
and start buying wedding dresses

Does it upset me? no...
but maybe it’s not so far-fetched
my job is a joke, i am broke, my lovelife is d.o.a.
and maybe it just harks back to
a different time when ladies found safety
in marriage as a promise
reinforced by the government and says:

Sister, relax, sit back, take off those
impractical shoes, stop getting dressed up
to impress drunken members of the opposite sex

And in this episode of Friends
the thing that Rachel does next
is she proposes to a guy she has only been on
four dates with, is rejected and gets real upset
and here I am, feeling more and more dejected

Like many people, I'd consider marriage one day
but I figure I’ve got 10 years to set up a career, the 9-5 grind
enjoy life and relax to the antics of the lunatics on Friends
which by the way is broadcast more often than the news

The news which is always changing
while sitcoms remain the same
reflecting our basic human ways and
how our animal instincts are decaying

If I had mates like Chandler and Joey
I’d like for them to be there for meee
if i needed a friend, like if one day I came home with
a white gown in which to prance around the lounge

So no one told me life was gonna be this way
weddings last a day and are nothing like TV portrays
them, and a decade of tax benefits won’t pay
for the ceremony

Don't rely on a fantasy
and turn instead to Friends!
No, not your own friendships which probably
won’t last forever, but to Friends the TV sitcom
which is on more often than the weather.

"Don't give that girl a crossbow!"
shouted the American tourist, twice.
The first time because I'd hit 60 out of 100
not 60 peasants, out of 100 peasants
but points on the target
which is pretty good
for someone from the 21st century
the second time, I think, because
nobody had acknowledged him
the first time
or because it made him 'Kafkaesque'
going unanswered in the castle
or simply because he was
a little bit hungry and a little bit upset
and a little bit American.

My driving instructor likes to say, ahead of practicing a three point turn: "Now steer like a woman possessed." Well, these past few days I've revised my hazard perception skills like a woman possessed, if that's not a contradiction.

After I pass (hopefully) my theory test tomorrow, I'll have a bit more time to focus on poetry. I wrote something like five new poems during a recent holiday in Prague, and yesterday another six together with Anna and Rebecca in preparation for Cheltenham Literature Festival in April. It's panning out to be a productive week.

I like the phrase "panning out." Means totally nothing in other languages. The infinitive makes no sense, even in English, to pan.

Apart from writing I'm taking my new zoom mic out for a spin in Bristol, as well as my phone camera, for an audiovisual project I plan to present at a conference later this spring, all to do with mixed media and poetry.

Now you know as much as I do.

I've finally committed a few words to paper about Noel Gallagher. I did it for a zine called Self Help, which this month features the results of a Noel Gallagher drawing competition. Anyway, here it is:

noel and i have been friends for a while now and i know what he doesn't like. noel doesn't like lies and he eats melon when he's sad, there is a special edge to the way he eats melon. like all friends, we have a stop word. the stop word is cantalope.

evidence of our friendship:

1. we never talk about his music. that's what a fan would do. i have taken a special precaution and never listened to any oasis albums just so that it won't affect my perception of him as a person, and our personal friendship.

2. we don't spend an obvious amount of time together. that's what a fan would do, or a friend who felt they had something to prove - follow him around everywhere, find out his phone number, try to get pictures together at every opportunity in which they inevitably are smiling and noel is looking at his shoes or looking evasively into the middle distance or has lost his temper and his biting the person.

3. noel has never tried to bite me.

4. i lived in manchester for a while which is where he obviously hangs out a lot. i've never actually met his mum but i've met loads of old women with northern accents, any one of whom could have been his mum. we don't talk about family, we don't talk about lots of things, because we are friends who have an Easy Understanding.

5. i know what his name means. it means christmas.

6. i can't talk about anything else as it's confidential between friends but i can tell you it's not sexual. we haven't done that, not since the plane crash. oh, shit.

So much to tell you since last time. Sally and I have been to Paris, where we met some wonderful French and American poets who inspired us to try a little harder and explore new performance styles. Since we got back we've started developing some another poetry project that could be potentially amazing. Also, the next installment of Poetry Pulpit is on Sunday, March 11th. I'd like to see you there.

Guys, I'm doing a short poetry set on the Grain Barge tomorrow, you know that boat up past Bristol City College. You know the one. We've been there.

Last week, remember? It was Wednesday I think and we talked about driving theory, how you and your wife met in the 1940s, and that guy who you helped fix up his boat and then he dumped you. That was harsh. After that story I drank double whiskeys by the half dozen and eat risotto and reminisce of how cheap a bouquet of flowers is back home.

In conclusion, come to Grain Barge tomorrow! It's a night curated by Protest Crayon. It will feature improvised electronic music that you as the audience can join in on, unless you're already performing, in which case why are you reading this? Get your ass down to the barge. Flowers all around.

Friday 10 February 2012 | Facebook event | £4 Entry | Map

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