Whether from intellectual snobbery or a formally made choice
or wilful ignorance I genuinely cannot remember but,
while my peers strove to be tuned in to the Station of the Stars –
the shifting wave lengths of Luxembourg, and the easy wiles
of Horace Batchelor’s ‘Infra-draws’ and Jimmy Savile’s ‘Guys ‘n Gals’ –
I would listen, on a plastic Bush valve radio in my bedroom,
to the Third Programme and heard, one night, by chance,
in Richard Burtons’s malted baritone, ‘To begin at the beginning:
it is spring, moonless night in the small town, starless
and bible-black…’ and I knew then that the making of words –
the dark, solitary skill – would craft mind and heart, soul and brain.




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  1. #1 by Ashen - October 17th, 2014 at 21:17

    I just connected, your poetry reminds me of W S Graham. I think Eliot was his publisher.
    Some time back, Sept 2013, I wrote a blog post that included some lines of W S Graham.
    I’m looking forward to your novella coming out soon ?

  2. #2 by Ashen - October 17th, 2014 at 21:18

    The question mark was supposed to be a sun.
    Keyboard misinterpretation 🙂

  3. #3 by David Selzer - October 19th, 2014 at 13:24

    An interesting and flattering comparison, Ashen – for which thanks. What is it that prompted you to make the connection, please?

  4. #4 by David Selzer - October 19th, 2014 at 13:24


  5. #5 by Steve - October 20th, 2014 at 01:50

    The memories that it recalls, though mine weren’t solely of Luxembourg but VOA’s Jazz Hour, classics that remain to enliven the jaded palate to this day.

    Thanks as always, David.

  6. #6 by David Selzer - October 20th, 2014 at 12:50

    Ah, Voice of America!

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