Open letter to Ted Hughes (LentBlog27)

Dear Ted Hughes You probably won’t remember me. I wrote to you before, in the summer of 1998. I did … More

Craving silence

‘So I was thinking,’ the book says. ‘Going anywhere nice for Christmas?’ ’Do you want a lift somewhere?’ I say. … More

I went home the other day. I mean home-home, where I was born, and where my parents still live. … More

In support of crowdfunding our new anthology of poems, No One You Know, with Unbound, Sue Dymoke and I are … More

‘I’m tired.’ ‘You said,’ says the book. ‘No, I mean, I’m tired. Of my handwriting.’ ‘What’s wrong with it? It’s … More

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

‘I’ve been out,’ says the book. ‘So I see,’ I say. The book is dressed in a pith helmet and … More

Recently I have featured prose writing by various writers, reshaping them in the form of found poems. Annie Dillard on … More

When the Arvon student is put in posession of that creative self, which was hitherto inaccessible, two things, in particular, … More