Adrian Mitchell reads "To You" at John Peel's "Night Ride" (1968-03-06)

To You
by Adrian Mitchell
One: we were swaddled, ugly-beautiful and drunk on milk.
Two: cuddled in arms always covered by laundered sleeves.
Three: we got sand and water to exercise our imaginative faculties.
Four: we were hit. Suddenly hit.
Five: we were fed to the educational system limited.
Six: worried by the strange creatures in our heads, we strangled some of them.
Seven: we graduated in shame.
Eight: World War Two and we hated the Germans as much as our secret bodies, loved the Americans as much as the Russians, hated killing, loved killing, depending on the language in the Bible in the breast pocket of the dead soldier, we were crazy-thirsty for Winston Superman, for Jesus with his infinite tommy-gun and the holy Spitfires, while the Jap dwarfs hacked through the undergrowth of our nightmares- there were pits full of people-meat- and the real bombs came, but they didn't hit us, my love, they didn't hit us exactly.
My love, they are trying to drive us mad.
So we got to numbers eight, nine, ten and eleven,
Growing scales over every part of our bodies,
Especially our eyes,
Because scales were being worn, because scales were armour,
And now we stand, past thirty, madder than ever,
We make a few diamonds and lose them.
We sell our crap by the ton.
My love, they are trying to drive us mad.
Make love. We must make love
Instead of making money.
You know about rejection? Hit. Suddenly hit.
Want to spend my life building poems in which untamed
People and animals walk around freely, lie down freely
Make love freely
In the deep loving carpets, stars circulating in the ceiling,
Poems like honeymoon planitariums.
But our time is burning.
My love, they are trying to drive us mad.
Peace was all I ever wanted.
It was too expensive.
My love, they are trying to drive us mad.
Half the people I love are shrinking.
My love, they are trying to drive us mad.
Half the people I love are exploding.
My love, they are trying to drive us mad.
I am afraid of going mad.

[@westbromwichalbino]

Wonderful. From his Out Loud collection and also recorded for the LP he did with Leon Rosselson, A Laugh, A Song And A Hand Grenade (1968), which I still listen to. His incisive poetry is sadly missed in these tumultuous and worrying times.

[@DimmiChaltre]

Totally agree. I appreciate much Leon Rosselson too, and I have a record of John Peel's 'Night Ride' programme of 1968 with him performing 'He Was Crazy, She Was Mad'.

[@westbromwichalbino]

@@DimmiChaltre Is that an actual vinyl record you have or a taped recording of Night Ride?