Today, Yahoo has a story up about a man in England who hid a Tudor-style castle in the Green belt behind a wall of dtraw for nearly four years. I am facinated by this story. Building is illegal in the Greenbelt, and there is a regulation saying that any unauthorized building that stands for four years without opposition from neighbors and such can then be registered or liscenced or whatever. There is a poem in this, I can smell it. In the story, the mother says that she kept her son home from preshhool the day they were supposed to draw houses, because, “what would people think if he drew a big blue hay stack”.
I’m in love with the news as a source for poetry. A few years ago, I heard a story on NPR about a man in france who withdrew his life savings, over a million, in cash, took it home, and burnt it all in the bathtub before attempting suicide. He lived, though, and went from rich to penniless. He had no regrets. I’ve had that story in my mind for years, and may have parts of it have probably shifted. I’ve tried to write the poem a few times to no avail. Then, I heard the story about the French banker who bad-traded away 7.2 Billion. I have something now. It’s going to be about not wanting what you have, who you are.
I love the news.