Music for the opening night will be courtesy of Brendan Canning.
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"The true test of poems like these, many of which are composed by erasing or composting other poems, is whether or not the trace of the originals is lost and their text reclaimed in some way that feels both original and inevitable. At their best, Vermeersch's lines reach out like a reckoning storm."
SUSAN GILLIS: What brought you to poetry? Or, if you prefer, what brought poetry to you?
PAUL VERMEERSCH: I think it starts with colouring books. I always hated colouring books. Blank paper was always better. When I was a kid, all I wanted to do was draw, to create my own images. Colouring books demanded orthodoxy, an adherence to a prescribed pattern and colour palette. But I wanted to play, to explore! When I got older I discovered that you can make art using language instead of crayons or paint. I tried writing songs. I tried writing stories. They didn't seem to fit, but eventually you just grow into things. I think I grew into poetry the same way I grew into my father's hand-me-down leather jacket. I started writing poems because they fit me best, and I discovered that I liked reading them best, too. All art forms are a kind of hand-me-down, I think. They come from the past. They are given to us, and they have traditions associated with them, but we have to decide what to do with them next.