shouting and whispering - paul squires
Paul Squires is dead.
When I heard this news I was shocked and I was sad.
I don't have too many fans of my poetry, but he was one.
I have never meet Paul and now I will never meet him, but I did get to know him a little through comments he made on my own blog and on other blogs I followed.
I found that Paul had gone through the back posts of my blog and left a trail of comments.
He was like that, he did things like that.
And if he liked something he would say so, and if he didn't like something he would say so.
Kept his heart on his sleeve he did and he pulled up his cuffs often.
One of his comments which appears on the comments stream of my post below this one -
" I am not good at whispering, Louise, sorry. Shouting across the room with a slightly drunken slur, more my style, I'm afraid. Now that I am rich I am thinking of paying people to make comments on my blog. I have completely lost the ability or desire to take Australian Literature seriously enough to type it with unironic capitals. One word from you over there saying anything would be worth more than a thousand Government grants (haha). Friday, poet's night, have a fantabulous one! I am off to offer Pam Brown and John Tranter an apology on the behalf of the working class, sorry we didn't mean it."
Just a perfect example of the kind of comment he would make.
He was a strange man/author and his echo of thoughts which he shared on the blogs he visited and on his own blog, showed what a true individual he was.
Two of his poems are up in the current foam:e click on the foam:e link on the post below this one if you want to read them.
Wherever you are Paul, it is probably beer o'clock and I'm sorry that I didn't send you more comments.