1st, Open Category 2007 - Jamie Crichton
The Genius of Capa
I forget the month (January), the day (Thursday) and the time (3.03pm).
I park on Health Centre Road and walk in torrential happiness
through a series of push pull automatic doors.
The daily special is Honey and Ginger Pork with Noodles
and Murray Walker is enthusing about Villeneuve's thirty second,
forty-five second gap (was it him they had on This is Your Life last week?).
Happy to see me? I ask and your
very is very quiet very
The Naked and the Dead is reluctantly shut
and I try in my mind to blame Mailer for your mood
and I'm listening to the couple behind you
they're talking over each other and
neither seems able to finish their sentence.
It's at 3.07 that I notice my nearest fire extinguisher is located at the foot of the stairs
(adjacent to the office), and when we kiss
I can taste syrup sponge and can that be tequila?
then through the market place in Union South,
you resist the lure of stolen Kickers and Fred Perry clothing
and I see Laura Valentine
and I swear she's mouthing something
yes she's mouthing
or something similar.
At 3.12 we stand in front of "Loyalist soldier killed whilst stringing
telephone lines, Teruel (Aragon front) December 1937"
You insist that Robert Capa is the greatest photographer that ever lived
and almost in the same breath you destroy me utterly.