‘So much good poetry is being written in and about and for this ghastly time. I cling to it.’
I’ve read so many good books of poems this year. So much good poetry is being written in and about and for this ghastly time. I cling to it.
Letters Against the Firmament by Sean Bonney gives a shit, loudly and with extraordinary versatility. It reaches deep into London’s toxic gut and into the sham of our democracy, and the lie of our history, and the farce of our daily deeds, and finds there a raging funny letter to be written. It’s lethally good.
‘We meet at various points in the great swathes of the past that neither of us were alive to witness.’
Allen Bratton on a daytrip to a castle with his older boyfriend.
‘Listening to three white poets, whom I suspect are academics, talk about the state of poetry.’
Oluwaseun Olayiwola eavesdrops on an older generation.
‘I’d been dubious about his company at first.’
Sarah Moss on watching Shakespeare with her twelve-year-old son.
‘She didn’t trust us because, to her, tenants were like children.’
Kate Zambreno on negotiating with her older landlady.
‘A moment now swallowed in embarrassment, I asked a question only a young person might ask an older one.’
Lynne Tillman on trying to understand what makes a generation.
