Once upon a time one Summer day somewhere in a far away corner of the blogosphere, I went out for a walk. My myopic eye got caught by Keats getting fucked from behind. When I put on my 5â‚¬ glasses I saw something different: “Keats is dead so fuck me from behind.”
I was delighted. And for a long time I could not understand why I was delighted. I even felt a kind of day-break what a glorious sunrise my heart opens to the first tune of the national anthem kind of feeling, (though you can leave out the national anthem bit).
I didn’t try to find out why the Fuck Keats line gave me such intense pleasure. I went for a little odyssee through the net instead, because I wanted to buy the first book by the author of that line. And in the name of Radio On I started to follow her on twitter. Which you should do too. You will be witness to her little experiments with prose and poetry.
That’s how I found out that she would have a talk somewhere in New Zealand. And Steve Braunias had invited her, because he could do so. I got in touch with both. And the result of that contact is the recording of a one hour and forty minute long kind of wild and funny evening or day at the Wintec Press Club in Hamilton, New Zealand.
You should listen. You should also buy that book.
The Waikato Independent published the podcast of Hera’s talk (27 minutes)
for broadcast hours/days.
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