Tom Raworth

Tom Raworth should be bottled and drunk three times a day.

Yesterday he read in Vancouver.

I told my almost 11 year old it doesn’t get any better.

I hope he believed me.

My favourite moment: the said 11 year old’s laughter.

Young laughter has its own timbre.

Tom has his.

Raworth’s poems are like a roledex on acid. Remind me of the old British Rail train the 125mph. The station in three dots. Bump. Bump. Bump.

It’s enough.

Tom’s figured out what’s enough for the listener

and that nothing’s too much for the reader.

I like this.