At first he has a knapsack, but as the journey goes on, he ends up driving a truck. It all culminates down at the dome, where they burn these objects. Armitage began his career writing honed, lyrical pieces, and is the editor of Short and Sweet, an anthology of some of the shortest poems in English. In his recent forays into much longer work, he seems to be reaching for the epic, the communal and the spiritual. Scarborough beach on Good Friday, sandwriting says Jesus is Lord.
Letters come and go.
On Sunday he's lard, lurid, blurred. By Tuesday he's bored. Perhaps the spirituality is more a rejection of materialism. While the poem thrives on stories and images from the media, Armitage can be scathing about his subject. My gut feeling is that news is just as much about what we don't know is going on, what doesn't find its way into our living room.