No mud, tents or rain,
just vicarious pleasure
or indifference at
a nom-de-bling's appearance
on the hallowed stage.
Before, ago, then:
Shepton Mallet wierdos
and hairy people
watching outsiders playing
on a gimcrack stage.
It's just cor-por-ate;
don't delude yourself man,
the gauchos galloped
for their festival dinero
on nostalgia's stage.
Feet up, telly on;
the satellite picture
mitigating
a faint and residual echo
of my hippy stage.
Comments
tcook | July 1, 2008 - 16:56
My youngest has just returned. She had a 'fab' time but she says the real Festival only starts when the music ends - loads of great things to do all night long! I must admit that I watched a lot of it over the weekend - and really liked The Enemy, Reverend and the Makers, Jay-Z (Iknow!), Jimmy Cliff and Manu Chao. Anyone else spot something really good?
Ewan | July 1, 2008 - 18:15
I reckon your youngest is probably right. There's a huge element of envy in my feelings about watching the event on TV.
Despite the disparaging Galloping Gaucho lines above, I thought Stackridge were rather good, or was that the rose tint of nostalgia?
Dynamaso | July 2, 2008 - 00:38
I envy you that you could watch the proceedings on television. It will be another 6 months before any of the footage makes its way onto Australian tv.
For a music fan such as I am, Glastonbury holds a fascination and is one 'thing' I'd love to do before I die.
Good poem, by the way...