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This book
is about vegetables that won’t be passive. Heare are
beans, potatoes, sprouts, peas and carrots that ‘kiss
the western dirt’. Garlic blows its lid, artichokes go
to war, the leek admits to melancholy while burdock fornicates
with all contingencies... bringing a deeper sense of the vegetable
soul at work, both within ourselves and within the world,
David Greenslade’s concerns go to the very core of contemporary
vegetableness.
‘David Greenslade has done for the vegetable kingdom
what Apollinaire did for the animal... and Peter Hay’s
woodcuts are as wonderful as Dufy’s for Apollinaire.
Worth the cost of the book for these alone. Altogether a delight’
Poetry Quarterly Review
‘Full of mystery, intensity, myth’
Poetry Wales
read a poem from Creosote
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AVOCADOS
Avocados when they fall, look for humming birds, reaching to
cuff them with simian arms. A spectrum of moths and butterflies
breaking the pre pubescent prism. A teal goodbye scarring the
limits of a solemn tree. Stones, like the testicles of a Ceredigion
bull, open under pressure. A dozen plants from half a dozen
eggs. A trader once gave me fourteen avacados he couldn't sell;
the thick pustular ointment stinking of smoke and cream. A mesh
of white saliva clinging to the copper nut. the yellow meat,
greed upon greed of cold stew, sticking to my lops while, for
a million years, I stared at the skin - amphibious hides decaying
into coal. |
