I confess I rarely have many dealings with erotic novelists. This isn’t snobbery on my part, it’s just they tend to be so much more generously remunerated than a mere poet. Still I do have a friend who is renown within the genre. I was going through a poorly remunerated period when he bumped into … More Technical matters are best left to skilled tradesmen
You know how it happens, there are two of you sitting drinking and then, suddenly and before you know it, there are three. So we sat in companionable conversation with our new friend Edard and swapped experiences. It struck me at one point that we were three men, no longer as young as we had … More Another glass?
It is, apparently, fashionable for one to interview fellow artists. I’ve always been wary of this practice, feeling that perhaps, in some barely understood manner, it pandered to the undistinguished tastes of shallow people. But in our modern and democratic age, it seems that pandering is no longer the social kiss of death that it … More A Conversation
Obviously as a poet, I do not need an editor. I am the poet, the editor and indeed the calligrapher as well. What is an editor going to tell me, that ‘te dum, te dum dum, te dum’ ought to be ‘te dum, te dum, te dum’? Will the editor criticise my symbolism, mock my … More Editing
Can a poet be expected to recognise madness? Indeed if you speak to my lady wife she might insist that one cannot be a poet without being touched by madness. Still I would suggest that not everybody fingered by madness is a poet, although, at times, their actions seem driven by poetry whose form and … More A rustling in the walls?
