Displacement

     The summer I was eighteen I stole a sheep.      It was very late, I’d left a party,      climbed the wet black hill behind the house.  ...

               I have abandoned the dream kitchens for a low fire             and a prescriptive literature of the spirit;             a sto...

 photo copyright Ashley Dace  I’m staying on the edge of Blythburgh, a few minutes’ walk from the marsh on the River Blyth estuary.  ...

These poems are clever, piss-taking, lyrical, experimental; often all at once.  It might help to have a PhD in semiotics when reviewing them...

Rob Mackenzie recently posted on his blog this excellent passage from WN Herbert, on first collections.   Originally from last autumn’s Poe...

If you want different poetry, here it is.   Brenda Shaughnessy’s first collection, published in 1999, communicates the shock of writing some...