You might think that a post called ‘my industrial ear’ was going to be about my interest in writing about the nuts and bolts of certain trades and occupations. My forthcoming pamphlet The Frock Enquiry uses the tools, materials and context of early sweat shops to imagine the voices of women who worked in those industries. In some of them, I have tried to use ‘blocky’ forms to suggest the heft and toil of the work. You might think this post was going to be about having an ‘industrial ear’ when it comes to poetry.
But no. This is the second in my series of mini-posts and it is actually far more literal. I have just returned from a visit to the body-piercing shop with more metal in my ears. Arthur, a gentle giant with a hipster beard, looked proudly at his handiwork when he’d finished my latest piercings and proudly pronounced that my ear looked ‘industrial’. I was delighted. I hadn’t realised that was a look I wanted until he said it. Here it is. Still a wee bit swollen. My industrial ear.
(The Frock Enquiry will be published by Annexe Magazine this Autumn. More details to follow)