Well, the clever poet, Trisha Broomfield has done it again. Another great poem, this time about an unforgettable era.
Now, Hawkwind. Didn’t people shake their heads to their music? Instead of dancing, they’d threw their head of hair around like Billy-O?! I mean, didn’t it hurt? Any thoughts on this, please write in.
Anyway, be blown away by this lovely, touching piece –
Hawkwind in a Frock
He invited her to a concert,
what to wear?
Night long, the sound of the Singer,
the slip, slide of material,
tension fraught, her foot on the treadle.
He called for her,
she noting his sneakers and jeans,
pulled her deep purple maxi-coat
to cover the floaty floor length frock.
He parked the Austin under safe street lighting
hurried her to the hall.
The audience, beads, flared jeans, sat
cross-legged on bare boards,
she pulled at buttons to hide.
Hawkwind warped the walls,
strobed the ceiling, stunned the crowd.
Her high-heeled strappy shoes
squashed her toes.
In the dark she shrugged off her coat.
He shone blue eyes into hers and,
‘You look like a princess’, he mouthed
Trisha Broomfield 2020
What really resonated with me with this stunning piece, besides Silver Machine being one of the best records of all time, was the purple maxi coat. I remember having a beautiful one.
So, stay tuned, poetry lovers, we have another interview coming up with the wonderful Greg Freeman! So get your seats booked! Going to be fascinating.
Same place, same time, same channel!