Circumstances took me into W.H. Smiths the other week (my son’s urgent need for Thomas the Tank Engine books!). Glances along the shelves provided a brutal reminder that a poetry section doesn’t exist there (in the Chichester branch, at least), although “True Life Stories” seems to be growing at an alarming rate.
And there was me thinking poetry was also a genre that excels at bite-sized morsels of Faction.
Following on from the publication in January 2025 of my translation of
‘Dressel’s Garden’, one of Jürgen Becker’s longer poems (which recently
appeared on ...
You make an interesting point. I suppose that it's not so much the bite-sized morsels of fiction, as all the other stuff that poets load on the reader's fork (to try to run with this metaphor) that isn't to the taste of the standard W.H.Smith customer?
ReplyDelete