If print is no longer king, where's that defunct webzine who published a couple of my poems a few years back??!!
We're so immersed in digital worlds that we often forget just how unstable and temporary the internet is. Even fully funded websites can disappear soon after they run out of money to pay for hosting, unless they're lucky enough to be archived by the likes of the British Library. Still, at least I've still got my copies of printed mags stretching back to the 1990s...!
Friday, 13 December 2024
If print is no longer king...
Wednesday, 27 November 2024
A new poem at Wild Court
I have a new poem up at Wild Court today. It might first seem about how rubbish I am at football. And it is! And I am! But it also implicitly reflects on elements of masculinity and nationhood. I hope you enjoy it...
Wednesday, 20 November 2024
On identity...
Friday, 15 November 2024
The Madrid Review podcast
I was the guest for the Madrid Review podcast last week. Grace Caplan was the interviewer with all sorts of unexpected questions, leading to discussions on belonging and estrangement, on the difficulties of translation, and on the genesis of my new poems that are in Issue Two of the mag. And I even gave a reading of them! You can have a listen to the podcast on Spotify via this link.
Tuesday, 12 November 2024
Poets for Movember at the MK Lit Fest
I'll be reading a poem tonight at this online event for the MK Lit Fest alongside a host of top-notch poets...
Friday, 8 November 2024
Unspoken exile, Graeme Richardson's Last of the Coalmine Choirboys
An
eternal dilemma when tackling a review is whether to adopt an extrinsic or
intrinsic approach, whether to consider the book purely in the context of the
text itself, or whether to bear in mind any backstory or biographical context
that the writer has preferred not to invoke explicitly. However, in the case of
Graeme Richardson’s new pamphlet, Last of
the Coalmine Choirboys (New Walk Editions, 2024), this dilemma becomes
especially significant.
How
to approach these poems without taking into account the fact that Richardson is
the Sunday Times poetry critic? How to approach these poems without registering
his day job in the archaeology department at the Max Planck Institute of
Geoanthropology? How to approach these poems without contemplating his current perspective
as a resident of Germany?
This last point is striking. Last of the Coalmine
Choirboys’ sole setting is the U.K., and a very specific location at that,
loaded with connotations of religión and industry. Brexit seems never to have
happened. The poet himself has never been displaced. Except, of course, that it
has. And he has. Which means that these poems can very much be seen as
historical documents, if we understand history as a set of partial stories.
In such a context, Richardson’s use of tenses becomes extremely interesting. One such example is ‘Those Amiable Dwellings’, which switches back and forth
between the present and past, generating unease as to the reliability of its
narrative perspective, then casting doubts on its own view of memory, shifting
from ‘I tried to remember’
to ‘I remembered
acutely’ within the space of
a few lines, undercutting any sense of nostalgia, as in the following lines...
‘…Coke-furnace sunset in Clipstone Forest.
The headstocks grazing peacefully in the distance.
Before the sponsored walk, Dad would drive us round,
marking out the route with sawdust arrows,
Sports Report on the radio.
I cried for my mum, but was told
that wouldn’t do…’
The above extract is
representative of an implicit questioning that runs through the pamphlet,
revolving around key aspects of religión, family and industry, all viewed through the lens of the individual, as in the opening stanza of ‘Unlatched and Lit’…
‘This
sanctuary of my soul
at
midnight is a seam of coal,
packed
with power but hard to break.
I mine it as I lie awake…’
These deliciously judged lines also display Richardson’s
awareness of form, rhyme and aural patterning. His poems are packed with
scrupulous turns of phrase in which no word is used without regard for its
connotations and ramifications. There’s a thorough, methodical, academically
trained mind at work here, though the poems are immediately accesible, which
means that many of the interesting notes at the end of the manuscript aren’t
actually needed when tackling the work itself.
Perhaps the most surprising inclusions are two prose poems
that feel like drum solos in the middle of a finely constructed song. Both in
terms of syntax and semantics, they jolt the reader into wondering whether they
fit in and pull their weight in the pamphlet as a whole.
Throughout Last of the
Coalmine Choirboys, there’s unspoken exile, the perspective of someone who
now returns on visits rather than inhabiting these scenes. In both temporal and
spatial terms, implied otherness runs powerfully below the surface of this
collection. Would it benefit from their explicit invocation? Or are some things
best left unsaid and to the reader’s imaginiation? Or will they represent the
next step on Graeme Richardson’s poetic journey…?
Sunday, 3 November 2024
My book's first birthday
My book's approaching its first birthday! It might have garnered great reviews and accolades, but the best reward has been seeing it reach over 200 pairs of hands so far. Poetry only comes alive once it enters a reader's imagination! Thanks are due to all the editors at journals such as The Spectator, The Rialto, Acumen, Wild Court, Stand, Poetry Birmingham, Bad Lilies, The Frogmore Papers and Finished Creatures, where some of these poems first appeared, but especially thanks to Helena Nelson for publishing the collection.
However, its journey's only just begun. More readings from Whatever You Do, Just Don't are coming up in the New Year. Chichester and Faversham are confirmed so far for late February, and I'd be delighted if any other events or festivals were able to offer me a slot...!
Sunday, 27 October 2024
The subjunctive
Learning Spanish involved getting to grips with the subjunctive. For instance, cuando vas and cuando vayas are two very different animals. Both might well be translated into English as when you go, but the indicative would imply habitual action, whereas the subjunctive would suggest potential consequence, the former followed in English by the present tense, the latter by the future, as in when you go, I'm happy or when you go, I'll be happy.
This understanding of the building blocks of another language then fed back into my view of English. Once I recognised that the it's a syntactic way of expressing what might happen or what might have happened, I also realised that the subjunctive mood is an integral part of any poem in any language, whether it's invoked explicitly or not. And thus my view of poetry also shifted. The counterpoint of bilingualism is always enlightening.
Monday, 21 October 2024
Poetry London submissions
It's interesting to note that Poetry London have closed to submissions for a period. According to the editor, Niall Campbell, there'll be more info when we decide how best to proceed.
Poetry London, of course, use Submittable, and have been inundated with poems over the last few months, in an experience that's shared by many major journals. The current dynamic feels unsustainable, that's for sure, if we don't want to burn out our editors and embitter our poets.
Tuesday, 8 October 2024
The Madrid Review
The Madrid Review is a top-notch addition to the European literary scene, both online and in print (see their website via this link). I'm delighted to have three poems and a prose piece in their forthcoming issue, which is packed with big hitters. Here's a sneak preview of the cover...
Wednesday, 25 September 2024
Where do we go from here?
Rather
than going for a provocative hot take, I’ve waited ten days since
returning from the U.K. before posting my reflections on the trip. A total of five
readings in six days was certainly an intense experience, and it gave me a real
feel for the poetry scene right now.
First
off, it served as a timely reminder that 99% of U.K. poetry exists beyond
social media and isn’t even aware of many trendy self-publicists. This is
especially true beyond the big cities and festivals, at readings above pubs or
in arts centres in provincial
towns, where people attend and buy books through a pure love of the genre.
These people, of course, are my readers.
Secondly, I was struck by just how many remarked on their disillusionment with
the direction that many major journals, festivals and publishers have taken in
recent years. In fact, there’s clearly a sizeable chunk of poetry readers,
purchasers and aficionados who feel disengaged with current fashions. And I’m
not just invoking embittered white male OAPs here. Event after event, I
encountered varied members of my audience coming up to me at the interval or
once the reading finished, champing at the bit to discuss the issue, expressing
deep frustration.
As
an individual poet, I can plough my own furrow, reaching out to readers via
initiatives such as my recent tour. But a wider issue remains. The disconnect
between the London-centric Poetry Establishment (in its changing guises) and
its customer base beyond a miniscule social media bubble has never been
greater, with the impression that the former has turned its back on the latter so long as the funding keeps rolling in.
That’s
a dangerous state of affairs for any genre that wishes to achieve anything
beyond mere narcissistic self-expression, self-flagellation and self-adulation. Where do we go from here?
Tuesday, 27 August 2024
Whatever You Do, Just Don't...Miss It!
Whatever You Do, Just Don't...Miss It! My September tour, that is, five readings in the space of six days. It would be great to see you at one of them...!
Wednesday, 7 August 2024
The Spotifying of poetry
In
recent conversations with a friend (Hi Mat!), the Spotifying of poetry came up.
By this term, I don’t mean that poetry is necessarily moving to Spotify, though its presence is certainly growing there.
Instead, I’m referring to changes that are taking place in how we consume both
music and poetry.
The
emergence of Spotify seems to have encouraged people to listen to hit after
hit, each from a different group or singer. And in a similar way, social media
appears to have enabled us to scroll straight from one individual poem to
another. Bearing in mind that most of us are listeners as well as readers, has
the shift in how we consume music also played an additional role in altering
how we approach poetry?
However,
there’s still a trenchant percentage of people who prefer albums, for the way
tracks bounce off each other, for the layered, more accumulative listening that
helps us appreciate artists more. And then we've got the álbum tracks, which we
often end up treasuring more than the hit singles themselves.
And
along similar lines, single-poet full collections still have a niche. I believe
there’s such a thing as a collection poem, for instance, rather than a magazine
poem. A collection poem might be slight if offered up on its own, but it complements
the bigger poems around it when placed in the context of an ms, establishing
dialogues and connections that run through a book and provide the whole with
greater depth.
In
fact, I have to admit that I’m starting to wince when I see poets and readers
stating on social media that a poem is a banger. Banger after banger can get
extremely tedious and mind-numbing after a while. As can hit after hit on Spotify…
Sunday, 28 July 2024
A poem by Barry Smith
I'm delighted to feature a poem by Barry Smith today, taken from Reeling and Writhing (Vole Books, 2023), his most recent collection, which is something of a retrospective. In fact, it includes work written across half a century, encompassing a range of styles from sonnets and songs to mock heroic satire, spinning off ideas from the Sixties to the Twenties!
The poem's title is ‘Supplicant’. It's technically adroit, accumulating details, layering them deftly, gradually drawing us in. Much of its power lies in its use of reportage, never telling the reader what to think. Instead, it juxtaposes observations and invites us to engage with its religious and societal ramifications, lifting what might first appear a mere anecdote into resonant verse. I hope you enjoy it...!
Supplicant
As
if called to midday prayer he hunches
on
all fours, his back turned to the abbey
where
angels and pilgrims blithely
ascend
heavenwards gripping stone ladders
flanking
iron-studded oak doors
while
solemn attendants collect entrance fees.
The
crouching man kneels in convocation,
vision
fully engaged with grey pavement
as
a blackly bristling wire-haired terrier
stands
guarding his singularly suppliant master,
sole
immobility in this crush of busy shoppers
hustling
beneath civic Roman colonnade
rising
in fluted stonework above.
No-one
pauses or seems to witness,
no
hasty handful of change clinks by his side,
only
the pool of liquid spreads
slowly
suppurating the patch
between
recusant dog and man.
Barry
Smith
(first published in Liminal, a Chichester Stanza Anthology)
Tuesday, 16 July 2024
Poetry submissions in the Submittable era
There’s
no doubt that Submittable has revolutionised the process of submitting poetry
to journals over the last few years, both for poets and for editors. It’s
terrific for the former, who are able to make submissions in minutes, follow
their progress and keep track of what they’ve sent where, rather than relying
on spreadsheets or trawling through emails. And then it’s also extremely useful
for the latter, enabling them to free up their email inboxes, structure their reading
in terms of drawing up long and short lists, and ensure stuff doesn’t get left
behind.
Moreover, the use of Submittable appears to have involuntarily generated certain
trends in terms of the poetry that journals are publishing, due mainly to the
vastly increased numbers of submissions that its ease of use has encouraged.
For example, if a single, individual editor receives over 18,000 poems a year
via Submittable (a reasonable figure for certain major magazines, as indicated
to me in private by a couple of those editors), their attitude to accepting or
rejecting those poems inevitably changes, whether they admit it to themselves
or not. The consequence seems to be that Submittable’s use lends itself to
poems that generate an immediate impact, given the editor has seconds to view
each poem on the screen before making an initial decision whether to hold or
dismiss the piece in question.
In
this context, it’s also worthwhile for poets to put themselves in an editor’s
(or magazine publisher’s) shoes. With the current rules of play, some poets
boast on social media of having a dozen or more subs on the go at any one time,
often using a scattergun approach because they have no skin in any journal’s
game.
And then many poets simply see magazines as an outlet for the work rather
than as an integral part of the creative process of discovering new work by contemporaries,
of keeping up with the scene. They fail to recognise that poets and editors
should sit around a metaphorical table rather than stare each other down from
opposing sides of a decrepit fence, the former bombarding the latter with subs
and then wondering why communication breaks down.
Some
editors are thus changing the way they use Submittable, operating with
submission windows. The latter option might reduce impromptu,
spur-of-the-moment, chuck-a-few-poems-their way subs, but it still tends to provoke
an absolute avalanche of subs as soon as the window is opened, often leading
to it being closed abruptly once the journal’s limit with the platform is
reached.
Another option is charging for poets to send their work in via
Submittable, justifying this payment in the context of the fees that magazines
themselves have to pay for use of the platform. These submission charges are
typical in the States, but highly controversial in the U.K., not least because
of the consequent implicit exclusion of poets who have limited financial means.
What
might be a potential solution? Well, in order to find a solution, it’s best to
identify and address the problem. And the problem, from my perspective, isn’t
Submittable as such, rather the fact that its emergence has coincided with a worsening
of the age-old issue that there are too many writers and not enough readers of
poetry, thus creating a perfect storm.
Everyone
wants to be published in print-based journals and no one wants to buy them. For
instance, let’s imagine that 18,000 poems a year equate to about 5,000 poets submitting,
If all of them bought an issue of the magazine in question, the mag would be
able to pay its way. And just imagine if half of them then went on to
subscribe! The financial sums involved aren’t inconsequential – they might even
reach the equivalent of many ACE grants.
So
why not take Candlestick Press’ example and apply it to major journals? They
stipulate that (unless you are a concession or suffering financial hardship)
any poet who wishes to take part a Candlestick competition should first buy one
of their pamphlets. Or what about Rattle, who include a year’s subscription in
their admittedly hefty competition entry fee? Or Crannog, who request the
purchase of their current issue by any submitter who’s never previously been
published by them? This condition also means that the poet in question receives
a good dose of contemporary poetry in return for submitting, keeping something
tangible that they can read even if their work fails to be accepted.
Underlining,
of course, that it’s crucial to put in place measures to avoid the problem of
potentially excluding poets of limited means (by detailing a list of
exemptions), I see no reason why many print-based journals shouldn’t follow a similar policy. Bearing
in mind that most magazine guidelines state that poets should read an issue
before subbing (and many poets ignore that advice completely), such a system
would provide them immediately with loads of excellent preparatory material.
Furthermore,
fewer submissions would arrive via Submittable, meaning that editors would no
longer be so overwhelmed, while the poets’ engagement with the magazine would
also be greater! This process wouldn’t only ensure a greater commitment on the
part of the submitting poet,but also longer print runs, stronger sales and
continuity of the journal beyond endless funding applications. What do you
think?!
If
you can’t be bothered to read a print-based magazine, do you deserve to be published by
it?!
Tuesday, 18 June 2024
‘I wish I'd written that’
Kevin Bailey has generously written a terrific review of Whatever You Do, Just Don't for HQ Poetry Magazine, so terrific that I'm almost willing to forgive him for calling me Matt! Here are a couple of quick quotes... This is superb and engaging poetry - highly recommended and worth getting. As a poet-of-sorts myself, when I start to think ‘I wish I'd written that’, I know that the experience of engaging with their work is going to be a good one.
Tuesday, 4 June 2024
i.m. Geoff Hattersley (1956-2024)
Geoff Hattersley, who died
yesterday, was one of the most outstanding but underrated poets of his
generation, while his impact on other poets was so great that it wouldn’t be hyperbolic
to suggest his emergence back in the 1980s transformed U.K. poetry. In fact,
this influence will undoubtedly become a fundamental part of his legacy to the
genre, alongside his idiosyncratic, top-notch poems.
Back in the late 1980s and early
1990s, he was a pioneer in embracing American techniques and aesthetics, infusing them with the humour and character of oral language in Yorkshire
society, and generating something new. I remember reading his work for the first time and suddenly waking up
to the possibility of Transatlantic poetic communication far beyond expected
channels.
Without his example, I find it
difficult to imagine Simon Armitage writing Zoom!, as it shares numerous
qualities with Hattersley’s poetry. What’s more, Zoom!, the current Poet
Laureate’s first full collection, also includes several poems that were previously
published in a pamphlet titled The Distance Between Stars, which was
edited and brought out by Geoff Hattersley himself under his Wide Skirt
imprint.
In the above context, given
Armitage’s importance and relevance to the present-day scene, Geoff Hattersley’s
contribution as an editor and publisher has been immense. As for his poetry
itself, why not celebrate his life by getting hold of his most recent
collection, Instead of an Alibi (Broken Sleep Books, 2023), recently the
subject of an excellent review by Matthew Paulan excellent review by Matthew Paul for The Friday Poem and with a sample poem from it in The Guardian a couple of months ago…?
Sunday, 2 June 2024
The evolving nature of the self, Lucy Dixcart's Company of Ghosts
There’s some terrific poetry being written
these days around the motif of ghosts. Anna Saunders’ Ghosting for Beginners
(Indigo Dreams Publishing, 2018) is an excellent case in point, as are Rebecca
Farmer’s two pamphlets, Not Really (Smith-Doorstop, 2014) and A Separate
Appointment (New Walk Editions, 2022).
The latter poet is especially
interesting as a point of comparison and contrast with the subject of today's review, Lucy Dixcart and her first full collection, Company of Ghosts
(Indigo Dreams Publishing, 2024). In both poets’ writing, ghosts interact with
the living, though the ghosts in Rebecca Farmer’s poetry are primarily lost
loved ones, which is understandable given she is from an older generation.
In
Lucy Dixcart’s case, meanwhile, her ghosts tend not to be sourced from the
dead. Instead, they represent the hypothetical selves that could have existed
if different life choices had been made, or they act out the role of former selves,
all seen from someone who’s approaching the mid-point of life, looking back on
youth and wondering what might have been.
One such example of forking paths can be found in the opening lines to ‘In Concert’…
At night, my lost sisters rise –
floating ghosts manacled with kelp,
faces moon-soaked, lassoed by their
own
salty hair.
Each sings her last moment -
a job declined, a child that wasn’t,
a door closed, or opened.
I’ve shed a self at every threshold…
And then those afore-mentioned former
selves appear later on the collection, passing judgement on present-day events and
speakers, as in ‘Reunion’, in which the third person
plays the ghost…
…She’s rolling her eyes,
propels me to some former friends. We
sift
through weddings, children, work –
nothing sticks.
I call for help, but she’s jigsawed
apart
and all her edges are missing…
Throughout this collection, Lucy
Dixcart takes the device of ghosts and uses it innovatively to explore the evolving
nature of the self. Like all good poetry, Company of Ghosts confounds
our expectations and enriches our own inner lives as we find ourselves
encountering our own ghosts too…
Monday, 27 May 2024
The current cull of unfunded, print-based, poetry publishing
Ok, ok, so I know full well the
following is absolutely a first-world problem, but I do feel it’s worth putting
on record that unfunded, print-based, poetry publishing in the U.K. is being decimated
right now.
Here’s a brief, provisional list
(please forward me further suggestions and I’ll add them) of the outfits we’ve
lost so far this year. In under six months.
Publishers:
- Victorina
Journals:
- Dreich
- South
- Planet
And the above is on top of major casualties last year such as Ambit. Oh, and recent urgent appeals to buy books from the likes of Longbarrow and Broken Sleep.
Moreover, online isn’t a magic wand. How many webzines have vanished from the internet once they ceased publishing new stuff? That’s the modern equivalent of going out of print, except nobody can buy second-hand copies of the mags in question. And then, only this morning, I read that One Hand Clapping seem to have lost their entire online archive, a huge blow both for them and for the poets involved.
At this stage of the game, there are grave doubts as to how many unfunded, print-based, poetry publishers, both of mags and collections, will still be alive and kicking by the end of the year. I see no point denying we’re in a full-blown crisis. What will emerge from the smouldering ruins…?
Sunday, 19 May 2024
Transatlantic communication, Adam Chiles' Bluff
Adam Chiles’ second full collection, Bluff
(Measure Press, 2024), is one of the most thought-provoking books to emerge
this year. Its interest is two-fold. On the one hand, there’s its intrinsic
poetic quality. And on the other hand, there’s the unique implicit dialogue
that it establishes between the U.K. and U.S. poetry scenes.
Let’s start with this latter issue.
Chiles was originally from the U.K. and now lives in the U,S.. His first
collection was published by Cinnamon Press in the U.K. back in 2008, but most
of his recent magazine and journal credits seem to be Stateside, while this
book has also been brought out under the auspices of an American publisher.
However, the vast majority of his current subject matter revolves around his
previous life in the U.K.. And then all the spelling is Americanised, though
the turns of phrase are inherently and quintessentially British.
What’s more, Chiles might be
publishing in the U.S., but his aesthetic refuses to plump for either side of
the American binary polarity between formal and free verse. Instead, he adopts
the more British approach of playing with both methods, often fusing them
within a single poem. As such, Bluff offers an excellent bridge across
the Atlantic, a reminder that what unites us is far stronger than what
separates us. It sets out to include both nationalities and achieves its aims,
dodging false polemics, which brings us neatly on to the poems themselves.
There are direct allusions to both
Edward Thomas and Philip Larkin in this book, and both are present in the
background via Chiles’ portrayal of humans in the natural world, paired with
his fierce clarity of language, as in the following extract from ‘Self-Portrait as a Lighthouse’…
…You inhabit the verges
of this song, neck-deep
amid the salt-scrim,
a pummeled scar,
storm-wrecked, sheer
above the Atlantic’s steel
horizon. Each night,
mind ablaze, you plow
the gale’s blind acre…
And then there are terrific,
pared-back poems of grief for the poet’s father, which run throughout the
collection, again interwoven with the nature The opening lines of ‘Reading Edward Thomas to My
Father’ provide an
excellent example of Chiles’ technique…
From the ninth-floor hospital window,
acres broaden,
scroll out past slate and pylon, the
black moor
unfastening, hour by hour, its thicket
of wounds…
Bluff
is a collection that repays repeated readings. Its ability to generate empathy
in the reader, to find the universal in the specific, are eternal values that
are often eschewed in contemporary poetry, but Adam Chiles is a master of them.
It seems clear that he’s gaining a considerable readership in the U.S., and
it’s time a U.K. audience discovered or rediscovered him too. His poems are a
breath of fresh air.
Tuesday, 14 May 2024
A video from the Rogue Strands reading in London
Thanks to Mat Riches' dexterity with his flash phone, here's a video of me reading a poem from Whatever You Do, Just Don't at the recent Rogue Strands event in London. My YouTube channel seems to be functioning very well as a way of reaching new readers, and I'd be grateful if you could subscribe...
Thursday, 9 May 2024
On Establishments
As soon as an old establishment is shunted aside by a new one, the new establishment's days are numbered. Its aura immediately starts to lose its shine, and another establishment, as yet unidentified, begins an ascent to replace it in turn.
And so the process continues. Favours are always traded. Nests are forever feathered. The names and faces and labels might vary, but the dynamics of power remain the same...
Tuesday, 7 May 2024
Two new poems in The Spectator
I've had two new poems in The Spectator over the last couple of weeks. It's always good to place poetry in an outlet that reaches so many general readers, but I'm especially happy on this occasion, given that these are my first publications since Whatever You Do, Just Don't came out.
Monday, 6 May 2024
Nigel Kent's generosity
Thanks to Nigel Kent's generosity, there are two features about Whatever You Do, Just Don't up at his website. On the one hand, there's a "Drop-in", written by myself, in which I focus on one of the poems from the collection, which is also reproduced in the same article. And on the other hand, there's Nigel's exquisite review of my collection. Here's a quick quote, but you can read it in full via this link...
Stewart’s collection shows what can be achieved when a poet doesn’t ignore most people: when a poet engages with universal concerns in poems that are apparently artless yet finely crafted, in poems that are ambitious yet always accessible, relatable and meaningful.
Tuesday, 30 April 2024
Last week's readings
It was brilliant to read last week at both Rogue Strands in London and at the Cheltenham Poetry Festival (thanks to Anna Saunders for the invite to the latter), to see old and new faces, to read to over seventy people in all, and to shift 15 books. Poetry is alive and kicking out there in the wild...!
Friday, 19 April 2024
Forthcoming readings in London and Cheltenham...
I've got two readings in the coming days, and I'd be delighted if any readers of Rogue Strands could come along and say hello!
First off, I'll be reading at our Rogue Strands event in London on 23rd April (at The Devereux, which is an ace venue). It's free entry, kicking off at 7 p.m..Poets from Carcanet, Red Squirrel, New Walk, Tall Lighthouse and HappenStance for your delectation. Rebecca Farmer, Paul Stephenson, Christopher Horton, Suzanna Fitzpatrick, Mat Riches and myself. All champing at the bit, all raring to read for you, all gagging to gallop to the bar (speaking for Mat and myself, at least)!
And then on 25th April, I'll be reading at the Cheltenham Poetry Festival alongside Chris Hemingway, Ardith Brown and Taz Rahman. This event also starts at 7 p.m. and is ticketed (get hold of yours via this link). Having read there twice in the past, at Buzzwords and at Poetry Café Refreshed, I know full well that Cheltenham is a veritable poetry hotbed, so I'm delighted to be returning and hope to see a whole host of new and old faces...!