New Generation Poets

I see in this morning's edition of The Manchester Guardian that dear old Simon Armitage has published a list of 20 exciting new poets to watch, The New Generation. How gratifying to see some of one's young friends feature on the list - Paul Farley, for example is a good chap, whose capacity for Liffey Water equals that of some of the greats of the past; or Jane Draycott, a fine poet, with quite simply the best legs in the game. It was a pleasure to see a photograph of the toothsome Owen Shears; a quite beautiful boy, who I came across in The Green Room at Hay last weekend, looking rather as though he had caught the sun on the end of his nose. If ever that harsh mistress prosody lets the lad down with a bump (as who has she not?), he might consider photographic modelling as an alternative career.
50 years ago, of course, I featured on the very first such list, along with Ted, Kingsley, Larkin, et al. It was at the luncheon to introduce us all to the literary press, that I first met dear old Charlie Causley, who was, of course, numbered among us. Sad to think I missed his memorial service November last, but I woke up that morning feeling as though it might be my last, quite unable to make the arduous journey from Brewer Street to Paddington. Now Charlie has been gathered unto the arms of the Lord I am the last of that first golden generation still to be found leaning on the bar of life; increasingly aware that closing time is approaching. I wonder who of this New Generation will be attendant on Spume's obsequies?