I was recently sent a link to a gorgeous article in The Guardian written by Kate Clanchy: the story of The Very Quiet Foreign Girls poetry group. Having spent the weekend revisiting the deep pleasure of being a student (despite nearly dislocating myself trying not to butt in and teach over the top of poor …
You know those poems with amazing titles
that suggest anything could be about to happen, anything might lie hidden behind the words about to leap forth – the soldiers of syntax marshalled on parade, the magicians of imagination warming up their wands – but which, like the contents of a Fabergé egg or a politician’s promise or Don Juan’s trousers add the …
A Dark Feathered Art 