As I often do, I will start with an extract from a poem – this time part of ‘Summer in a Small Town’ by Tony Hoagland – one of my favourite poets, and author of a collection entitled ‘What Narcissism Means To Me’ – job done!
Summer, when the living is easy
and we store up pleasure in our bodies
like fat, like Eskimos
for the coming season of privation.
All August the Ferris wheel will turn
in the little amusement park,
and screaming teenage girls will jump into the river
with their clothes on,
right next to the No Swimming sign,
trying to cool the heat inside the small towns
of their bodies,
for which they have no words;
obedient to the voice inside which tells them
‘Now. Steal pleasure.’
Rowena Sommerville, Director