Rehomed, Renamed
As part of the 2024 Summer School, Newcastle University's Writing Poetry MA students were poets-in-residence at the Great North Museum Hancock. Around the museum you can find poems written by the students during the Summer School.
The professional writing residency with the GNM:H encouraged new ways to engage with the museum’s collections, history, and modern cultural presence. It allowed the students to explore new perspectives to the way they approach writing.
Further information about the Writing Poetry MA can be found on the Newcastle University website.
Writing Poetry MA | Postgraduate | Newcastle University (ncl.ac.uk)
The many lives of John Hancock (1808-1890)
Say I was John Hancock, or John Hancock’s
brother, his friend and confidante and possibly lover,
possibly the teacher or mother of John Hancock,
the priest of John Hancock, the collected servants
of John Hancock, say I was the whole family of
Hancocks, containing within me the sum total
of John Hancock, say I carried John Hancock inside
me like a lump of wire and wool wrenched into the shape
of a person, the person being of course John Hancock,
say when I closed my eyes I saw John Hancock
and his brothers dancing, say that, when asked a question
about my weekend plans or the weather or
the ongoing geopolitical ‘situation’ I simply replied
John Hancock, say I walked into the saloon with John
in one hand and my Hancock in the other, say I was so
burdened by John Hancocks that I could not afford
my own John Hancock, say I was John Hancock,
and I knew what it meant to make a living
thing its own container, say I filled myself with John
Hancocks until they spilled from me like a river
from the mouth of the eel, say I gathered the local
children to see John Hancock, posed with a skull
in his hand, so they could point and say that is John
Hancock, he was born thisorthat year and taught us to remember
death, and all the other John Hancocks in the room
stood there in different arrangements, some clapping,
some about to clap, others not clapping at all.
Hen St Leger, Poetry School MA Student (London)
