Morrissey interview: Big mouth strikes again  For 30 years, poet
Simon Armitage's admiration for Morrissey has bordered on the
obsessive. But could his love survive an encounter with the
famously sharp-tongued singer-songwriter? 'Do I own a valid
driving licence? What kind of a bland, insipid question is
that?’ Photograph: Jake Walters  It's a bit like being on a
date. It's not a blind date exactly; poet meets songwriter seems
to be the general idea. But I've no idea if he knows who I am,
and for all that I've stalked the man and his music over the
years, I can't say with any confidence that I know who Morrissey
is either. Can anyone? So when the door opens and he strides
into the room, neither of us seems sure of the protocol. I am
meeting him of course, that's a given, but is he meeting me? I
shake his hand, a square and solid hand, more in keeping with
the mobster and bare-knuckle boxer image he's cultivated of late
than the stick-thin, knock-me-over-with-a-feather campness of
yesteryear. Then he gives a l