Dancing to Motown

Lorna Thorpe

Stylish and sensual, Thorpe’s debut collection is written with all the zesty fluency of the soul classics that are so effectively woven into the poems themselves. From the off it is clear that Thorpe is pulling no punches. 'Top Rank Suite, 1971' throws us straight into a boozy night out:

River deep, mountain high –
that’s what I’m after when I step into the tunnel
that snakes behind the stage, into the forest
of straps and zips where tongues twine.

These poems are deeply personal. Some of the content could make one squirm, but the pieces have a poppy montage effect whereby raw intimacy can melt and merge into the heady realm of fable. 'The fuck-ups club' deals with the death of a friend, but ends with the wonderful image of waking up to see 'a citadel in a soap bubble / ropes of diamonds in a shower’s stream'.

The poems’ lyrical immediacy hides a subtle approach to autobiography. It may feel as though Thorpe is bearing all with talk of 'blow job technique' and the 'baptism / of mouth on mouth', but we are always aware of the potential of private dramas to resonate with the glorious language of cinematic memory, even if these suggestions can never be fully realised:

I waited for some matinee moment,
the soar and swell of violins,
but it was just me and Welsh Greg
locked together like toy soldiers
in the long grass, […]

Thorpe defies traditional autobiographical conventions with self-ironising ease, often focussing on the moments when a disappointing everyday reality conjures seductive flickers of memory and fantasy. The title poem - which sees the narrator recalling childhood thrills and traumas whilst at her father’s hospital deathbed - is not cloying, but a surprising, economical fusion of past and present, imagination and reality.

As we only produce limited edition print runs, we're both sorry and delighted to announce that this pamphlet has now sold out, so achieving true collector's item status!

ISBN 0-9542443-3-8
Sold out