From the specific to the universal, Hilary Menos' Vox Wah Wah

The act of reading Vox Wah Wah (New Walk Editions, 2026), Hilary Menos’ recent pamphlet, provokes wider questions, Through them, the specific is found opening an invitation to the universal, which is perhaps a useful analogy for Menos’ approach to poetry.

In these twenty-one poems, Menos is certainly specific in many ways. To start with, they’re absolutely littered with proper nouns, from the names of guitars, groups, songs and concert venues to the man, Andy, whose implicit presence course through them. One such example is ‘Used & Vintage’. It begins as follows…

His first was a Fender Squier made in Japan
which he part-ex’d at Mansons in Exeter for an Epiphone
which he traded for a pretty little Rickenbacker Jetglo
which he swapped for half a car and a Gibson Les Paul Studio
which he lost to the drummer in a late-night drunken bet…

This isn’t a list poem. It’s a sequence of experiences that portray Andy’s passion for the instrument and the music that he plays.

However, the closing lines confirm extra layers…

…the sap settling in sweeter patterns the more you play
so with use and age come depth and resonance
and I look at him and think, yes.

The male’s deep feelings for guitars are juxtaposed here to the female’s deep feelings for him, allowing the reader to compare and contrast both sets of emotions. Furthermore, it also contains the revelation that an extended metaphor and analogy have been building throughout this poem, thus encouraging an immediate re-reading (which is always a good sign!).

Via specific moments, scenes and experiences, Vox Wah Wah explores extremely universal stuff. In fact, there’s an argument that this is a collection of love poetry that’s stronger for never invoking the term, exploring and pondering the nature of love both for music and for people. It’ll leave you thinking, thinking, thinking, and longing for more!

On Poem Today

I'm delighted to report that one of my poems was featured recently on Poem Today. You can read it via this link.

An appreciation of HappenStance Press

Now that Nell, aka Helena Nelson, aka Helen Beaton, founder, publisher and editor at HappenStance Press, has sent out her final newsletter and announced that the press is winding down, I felt this might be a good moment to celebrate its achievements.

HappenStance started out as a poetry pamphlet press in 2005, publishing slim volumes by all sorts of poets, gaining most recognition for the début pamphlets by up-and-coming names. Several significant contemporary poets cut their teeth with HappenStance. People such as Niall Campbell and Will Harris, etc, etc, not only benefited from Nell’s editorial input at an early stage in their development, but they also obtained a calling card from HappenStance, in the shape of their pamphlets, which enabled them to make the step on to bringing out their first full collections with major publishers. All of the above led to the press being awarded the Michael Marks Award in 2010.

Moreover, in editorial terms, Nell ran a system of submissions windows. Poets sent her batches of their work, and she then replied with detailed feedback. Numerous well-known poets might never have been published by her, but her crit of their work still played a huge, invisible role in their development back in the day. Just imagine how many hours she dedicated to this selfless task!

And then there was Sphinx. Sphinx Reviews was a project that ran alongside HappenStance. It specialised in reviews of poetry pamphlets, a format that has long struggled to receive critical attention, and provided an incredible service to poets, publishers and, of course, readers.

By my tedious manual count, a total of 1461 books were reviewed on Sphinx, many of them by more than one person. That’s the equivalent of over 2,000 pamphlets that were received by Nell, repackaged and sent back out to her loyal band of reviewers. 2,000 batches of stamps to be paid for. Countless treks to the post office. 2,000 reviews that were edited by her (often to the huge benefit of the reviewers themselves, whose prose style and critical approach to poetry were often transformed via this process). 2,000 posts that were formatted, uploaded and optimised for search engines.

In later years, HappenStance shifted its focus to full collections. And again, it punched above its weight, garnering a T.S. Eliot shortlisting for Fiona Moore’s The Distal Point, providing opportunities to fine poets whose writing didn’t fit in with the criteria that major publishers employed to select their manuscripts.

And though Nell would probably admit that she was far more comfortable editing poetry than selling it, let’s not forget that HappenStance Press shifted several thousand units over the years, all via an unfunded subscription model with barely any distribution through bricks-and-mortar bookshops. What’s more, it published several volumes that reached out beyond the poetry bubble and found their way to readers via farm shops and wine merchants, etc, finding new readers for the genre.

As for myself, I’m hugely indebted to HappenStance Press and to Nell herself. But that’s another article for another occasion. Of course, Nell herself is battling on, still publishing her own excellent poetry every now and then, still helping poets out on an informal basis, still writing critical articles with a pen like a scalpel. It’s just that HappenStance itself is coming to an end. Time to celebrate and appreciate what it’s meant for so many people, the friendships and connections it formed among poets and readers. Time to recognise that it represents so much of what’s good about the poetry scene in the U.K..

For umpteen reasons, umpteen of us can say ‘Thank you, Nell’!

My editorial for The Madrid Review...

Over 800 poems later, here I am, still in one piece after having read all of them. No sifting here! And no, the process wasn’t an ordeal. Instead, it was enlightening in terms of understanding my own subjective tastes.

As a reader and editor, I’m not wanting to be surprised, a desire I’ve heard several other poetry editors mention over the last few months. In fact, this feels like a worrying trend, driven by their understandable saturation. The consequent problem is that understated, restrained or layered poems are often penalised in the submissions process, and they tend to be among the most interesting ones.

Enough of what I don’t want though. What did make me select the poems that are included in this issue? Well, I’ve been drawn to a sense of line and its inherent tensions, to a concise, precise and fresh use of language (without the need for fireworks unless they play an intrinsic role in the poem’s purpose), to a naturally heightened cadence, to a delving into the universal via the specific, to an emotional awareness of the reader’s role. Not much to ask, I hear you say!

This means that self-expression on the part of the poet wasn’t enough when I was considering submissions. Instead, I believe the poems I’ve chosen are reaching out to us and are always aware of our presence. They invite us into their worlds, before encouraging us to revisit our own worlds in light of theirs. These poems moved me and changed me, which was a privilege. I’m delighted and proud to share them with you today.

Back on The Friday Poem

Some nasty people hacked The Friday Poem's website in April, but they're rebuilding via Substack and have now posted one of my poems for a second time (see here).

This one didn't quite make the cut for my last book. However, several people have said nice things about it on the back of the new reposting of it, which makes me think it might be worth a tweak or two with a view to inclusion in my third collection ms. Time will tell...!

On the cover of The Madrid Review...

I'm the Guest Poetry Editor for Issue 9 of The Madrid Review, and they've very kindly put my name on the cover too...!