Praise the Rain

Praise the Rain Praise the rain; the seagull diveThe curl of plant, the raven talk—Praise the hurt, the house slackThe … More

Struggling

Struggling I haven’t had time to stand and fart recently, and you’re wanting me to work on a relationship? That … More

Bike You, who have borne three sons of mine, still bear my weight routinely, transporting me. An odd … More

As the summer holiday season takes hold, I am posting an old blog post or two from the archive. See … More

Ann Sansom is one of my all-time favourite people, poets or normal, ever. I count myself fortunate to have worked … More

It was one of those throwaway remarks made by one writer, male, to another, ditto, in one of those books … More

As we draw to the end of NaBloPoMo, I have invited Josephine Corcoran to collaborate with me on a joint-interview. … More

Try to Praise the Mutilated World Try to praise the mutilated world. Remember June’s long days, and wild strawberries, … More

Kin “You make me sick!” this, with rancor, vehemence, disgust—again, “You hear me? Sick!” with rancor, vehemence, disgust again, with … More

It was a huge privilege to share poems in workshops I gave at the Greenbelt festival last weekend. Here is … More

‘Did you hear?’ says the book. ‘Ted Hughes’s brother has died.’ ‘I did see that, yes,’ I say. ’95, though. … More

A Rainy Morning A young woman in a wheelchair, wearing a black nylon poncho spattered with rain, is pushing … More

Some writers influence you through the pull of their imagination on your work, opening up new worlds as you read … More

I have been sorting. I have been chucking. It’s been the recurring theme over the last eighteen months. I cleared … More

‘To tell you the truth, it’s been shattering. But kind of amazing, as well.’ ‘You never said. You never said. … More

In terms of my poetry world, 2015 has turned out to be a year of endings and legacies. The Poetry … More

Don’t miss tomorrow’s guest blog post by Naomi Jaffa, in which she reminisces about two of her favourite poets from … More

When I write, I feel like an armless, legless many with a crayon in his mouth -Kurt Vonnegut A friend … More