Category: Blog

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Poetry titles, aka the naming game

Earlier this week I had two tasks on the go: firstly to whip my pamphlet into shape before sending it off to the Mslexia comp (well, someone has to win it!) and secondly to have an initial read through of several hundred poems in my ‘guest co-selector’ role for a magazine.

It was interesting to do the jobs pretty much side-by-side: to put myself in the shoes of the submitter and the selector at the same time. Of course there are aspects to a pamphlet submission that don’t apply when sending off individual poems. I’ll probably talk more about putting the pamphlet together in another post. But one of the first things I realised as I made my way through the pile (and which made me look again at my pamphlet) was the importance of titles.

Contents page from Frank O Hara Selected
Can only Frank O’Hara get away with a poem entitled ‘Poetry’?

I don’t know about you but I often struggle with titles. I know there are many guidelines about this, and everyone has their preferences. I’ve often heard it said that the title is an opportunity: a first chance to get the reader’s attention. Personally, I have an aversion to those obviously attention-seeking titles you see on competition shortlists. So that leaves us with ‘try to be original, but not too cute.’

Sometimes I start with what I think is a great title, then work backwards and try to write a poem that fits. This rarely results in a fine poem, but is a fun exercise. Am I the only one with several pages of a notebook filled with (what I think are) great titles? I’ve also got a few magazine titles up my sleeve, which of course can be as bizarre as you like. And because there are so many small journals in existence, it’s hard to tell the real from the fictional, and does it really matter? Certainly not on social media where things often get blurred. Every now and then I’m tempted to poet to Facebook something like “Delighted to have had a poem selected for Builder’s Bum Magazine!” and wait for the likes and the congratulatory replies. I’ll put money on nobody saying “What the hell magazine is that??”

Magma 57 contents
Browsing the titles of poems in magazines can be interesting… this is a page from Magma 57

But seriously … as Don Paterson says, “The title is where you can put a clue as to what the poem is about. Once you stated that, don’t keep saying it.” Obviously I wouldn’t dream of messing with the DP, but this isn’t as easy as it sounds, is it? In my anxiety to avoid a boredom-inducing title I’m aware of sometimes being a tad too obscure. It’s as if the title and the poem used to be attached, but after all the edits there is now a huge gap between the two. Nevertheless, I like a title that makes you work. I saw this poem by Jack Underwood the other day and was so intrigued by the title I read right through to the end, something I confess I’m not always good at with long-ish poems, if I’m not gripped early on. Then I wanted to read it again.

I do think a title can make or break a poem, in the sense that a good poem can probably get away with a poor title, but a mediocre poem can rise if the title has been given some thought. I also think it’s a wasted opportunity to give a poem about a cat the title ‘My Cat’.

What do you think? Read any good titles lately? What goes through your mind when giving a poem a title?

Angst/

An update on submissions, readings etc and a nail-biting aside

My fingernails are looking reasonable at the moment, which is pretty good considering that the house-moving stressometer is probably at its highest right now.

A short aside about nailbiting – a bit off-topic and do not read if you are squeamish

I can usually tell if I’ve got too much on my mind by the state of my fingers. Too much biting is part of a perpetual cycle of worry – unconscious biting (for comfort) – feelings of self-loathing (because it’s so horrible a habit) – self-congratulations (when the fingers grow back) – worrying if there’s something I should be worrying about, etc. Of course, sometimes the different stages last for ages, so I can go for a while without a crisis. It’s a lifetime sentence with which finger/nailbiters will probably identify, but leaves non-biters mystified and often somewhat repulsed. I can trace it back to childhood when it was never (and probably still isn’t) regarded as self-harming. I wonder if that’s because it’s politely called ‘nailbiting’ although for many of us it’s much worse than that. I can safely say I don’t do it for attention. I’ve had hypnotherapy on more than one occasion and that is the only thing that stops it – albeit for a certain period of time. But a single session has lasted me nearly two years in the past. Chronic nail or finger biters – I recommend it HIGHLY.

OK, back to the business of poetry … I seem to be having a good few days as regards writing. The recent results of the Cinnamon pamphlet competition – (reader, I flunked it) – have prompted me to look again at my submission and identify the weak links. And – joyous! – I see several. So. Looking again at some poems unattended for 6 months or more has sent me into a frenzy of revising and re-writing. I have sent out more of the individual poems. I am hoping an experienced poet will help me sharpen up the pamphlet, ready for the next submission. I’m feeling positive that many of the poems therein have merit, and I’m starting to understand what edits are needed. Good times!

Submissions latest – since my last blog post on the subject I’ve heard from one of the long unheard-from mags, to say that my poems had been sent to a mystery file …? But were now winging their way to the selector for some unspecified future sifting of submissions. How magazines work is entirely a mystery to me but soon the boot will be on the Other Foot! My time as a selector for South magazine is nigh. Together with (and guided by the superior experience of) Jeremy Page of The Frogmore Papers, I will soon be reading and selecting submissions. Stay tuned for how this pans out.

Readings – last week I was very pleased to be at Redroaster in Brighton to hear readings from D A Prince, Deborah Tyler-Bennet and Andie Davidson. Andie is a Brighton Poetry Stanza cohort and one of my ‘loose committee’ of organisers, as well as a super poet and excellent in a workshop. Sadly I was soooo tired I was too dead on my feet to really get into the atmosphere or do any chatting, in fact it was lucky I wasn’t driving home as I think I fell asleep before we reached the car.

Forthcoming – on Saturday I’m looking forward to a writing day at Riverhill Himalayan Gardens with poet friend Lucy and numerous others. The day is organised as part of Abegail Morley‘s poetry residency there, and if the sun shines it will be glorious. (Abegail recently posted a Q & A with me on her blog, on the subject of Telltale Press – do have a read if you’re interested.) Then on Monday I’m going to the Troubadour for Smith’s Knoll night and an injection of poetradrenaline (see what I did there?)

A few dates when I’m reading: Lewes and Brighton folks, I’d love to see you at St Anne’s in Lewes on Sunday 14th June 3pm, when I’ll be taking part in a reading on the (loosely interpreted, I hope) subject of ‘Creation’, alongside Ann Segrave, Jeremy Page and Mandy Pannett. Free, with a collection afterwards.

On Thursday 18th June at 7pm I’ll be at the Poetry Cafe in London for the next Telltale Poets & Friends (also FREE), reading with another lovely group of poets, namely Tamar Yoseloff, Sue Rose, Peter Kenny and our newest Telltale poet, Sarah Barnsley. I’m currently working with Sarah on producing her pamphlet and I can tell you it’s going to be big. Stand back for an early autumn launch.

Then on Monday 22nd June at 7.30pm as part of the Camberwell Arts Festival I’m reading at The Crooked Well together with Richard Skinner, Josephine Corcoran and Roy Marshall. Possibly free, or nearly. No wonder poets are all skint!

After that I’ll be taking a summer break from readings and the like. There’s a new home to think about, after all.

Angst/

So when is the editing done?

A quiet morning, so I’m taking the time to go through all the hurriedly-filed poems and get organised, as I want to send a few more submissions out – to fill the hole left by those I’ve finally given up on.

poetry filing

 

I knew I’d been hanging onto a few, waiting for the submissions windows of the mags they feel destined for. But I didn’t realised how many there were, in various states of completion. In the end I counted 35, and that’s just the ones I’ve printed out (I usually only do this if I think they’re ready or nearly ready. It also included poems that’ve been sent out, perhaps several times, but haven’t yet found homes. It doesn’t include those currently out.)

Now I’ll go through and categorise them – OK to resend as-is, need some work (but hopefully the last edits before sending), needs a lot of work (some editing then re-file to look at another time). I’m hopeful there won’t be anything to ditch entirely (I’ve already got rid of two this morning which just seemed un-rescuable.)

Everyone has their own thoughts about editing & reworking. When is the editing done? Experienced poets say a poem isn’t necessarily finished when it’s published. I can see how that might happen if you’re deciding on poems to put into a collection, and you may look at something published in a magazine a few years back and decide you can improve it. My trouble is that I sometimes re-work a poem while it’s out for consideration somewhere, then if it’s rejected I’m kind of relieved because I think the newer version is better. Perhaps the reason I do it is because I’m subconsciously pre-empting a rejection? Hmm, I probably shouldn’t waste time wondering about that.

What I do know (for me anyway so I imagine it’s the same for many people) is that there is no correlation between the number of edits and/or length of time a poem sits ‘maturing’ and whether it gets published and/or placed somewhere. I’ll repeat that: no correlation.

I can’t pretend to enjoy the waiting game once something has been sent out, but I do enjoy the editing/filing/re-working is it any good/is it finished angsty stuff leading up to that point, and although I frequently kill my darlings once they’re been through 5 or 6 rejections, there are a few that are still hanging on. Because just occasionally an old one finally gets pummelled into something worth reading, and that’s very satisfying.

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And so to bed (and Bath)

Actually I wish I was still in my bed right now as I’m feeling a tad slug-like after another late night ‘up in town’ as my mum used to say. (It was always ‘up’ to London – even at the station announcers would always say “attention please on the up platform…” – I wonder if one goes ‘up’ to London from points north? Hmmm.)

reading pile, may 20th 2015

But the ‘bed’ reference is more to do with what’s on my bedside table in the process of being read. The latest additions are a copy of Brittle Star issue 36 and a sleek little pamphlet called ‘Earthworks’ by Jacqueline Gabbitas. I was fortunate to meet Jacqueline and her Brittle Star co-editor Martin Parker last night at the launch event, at the Barbican Library. She was a warm and effervescent host, a hugs-rather-than-handshakes person who made everyone feel like long-lost friends. It was a lovely relaxed atmosphere. Oddly enough I was asked to read first, which is becoming a habit – I think I’ve been on first in the last four readings I’ve done. I also noticed I made a teensy error in the poem that appears in the magazine (‘practice’ instead of ‘practise’) but thankfully I wasn’t had up by the grammar police. My apologies nonetheless.

I was dead impressed with the whole operation – the magazine and other publications from Stonewood Press, their imprint, are beautifully produced, the event was well organised and well attended and they even provided free wine, Pimm’s & strawberries. Nice! Not only that, but it was a impressive range of readers (poetry and short stories). I particularly enjoyed a two-hander from Joolz Sparkes and Hilaire, who read a selection of poems from their project ‘London Undercurrents’ featuring tales of feisty London women from different periods of the city’s history. Also very nice to hear (and speak to) writers Jonny Wiles, Ruth Brandt and Stewart Foster.

Also on my current reading list is the May issue of Poetry (the cover alone has been giving me strange dreams). I suppose one of the pleasures of editing a monthly poetry journal (as opposed to the more usual half-yearly) is the ability to include longer pieces if you so wish, or to focus on a single theme or style. April’s edition was dedicated to ‘breakbeat poetry’, or a celebration of ‘new American poetry in the age of hip-hop’ as Don Share says in his introduction.  This month the magazine opens with a 35-page long poem by Frank Bidart. Equally daunting is a 22-page essay by Donald Revell entitled ‘Scholium.’ I’m never sure of the best way to tackle longer pieces – I find the amount of concentration needed makes them impossible to digest in one sitting. So it’s usual case of start, skim, and go back. Or not, depending on how gripped I am.

And finally, Sonofabook – a new twice-yearly journal from CBEditions, a mix of poetry, short stories and non-fiction pieces which looks very promising. There’s an offer on at the moment as an incentive to subscribe. Sonofabook features a guest editor for each issue, and is the brain child of publisher Charles Boyle, who incidentally writes a very honest blog by the same name – check out this excoriating piece about Faber, for example!

Siegfried Baber pamphlet launch, photo by www.dotandlucyphotography.co.uk
Photo of Siegfried Baber by http://www.dotandlucyphotography.co.uk

Just a quick mention about last week’s event in Bath, which was such a pleasure for me – to unfurl the Telltale rollerbanner in Toppings bookshop and to introduce our latest Telltale poet Siegfried Baber and his pamphlet When Love Came To The Cartoon Kid. When I began the whole Telltale thing I didn’t realise how much enjoyment and satisfaction I would get from helping other poets on their way. The more you give to these things the more they seem to pay back. That’s not to say I’m not still ambitious for myself – but the two things (helping yourself and helping others) aren’t incompatible. Personally I think I they balance each other up.

It reminds me of a singing teacher who once told me that the way not to ‘run out of breath’ is to support it and keep fuelling it, rather than giving up too soon. If you believe all you have is a small amount of breath, that’s all you’ll ever have. But if you trust your lungs to do what they’re good at you’ll find there’s a lot more inside you than you think.

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A short post about long poems

Next month, Long Poem Magazine opens its submissions window. So if you have a poem or two more than 75 lines long, now’s your chance.

I think I can safely say I won’t be submitting, mainly because I don’t seem to have any long poems in me. I’ve never been anywhere near the magic ’40 line’ limit imposed by most competitions.

Maybe it’s because I used to be a sprint hurdler, but struggled to jog even once round the track without conking out. Maybe it’s because my hair only grows to mid-length, then stops. Maybe it’s because I can’t stop editing. Maybe it’s because I’m a Londoner. Maybe.

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News of readings, launches

Pamphlet launch

This evening Telltale Press goes global! Well, it makes its debut in the southwest of England, anyway… Siegfried Baber launches his debut pamphlet, When Love Came To the Cartoon Kid, at Toppings Bookstore in Bath, 8pm this evening. Come on down! Siegfried set the room alight when he read for us recently in Lewes. Talented & entertaining. If you can’t make it, be sure to snap up his pamphlet here…

When Love Came To The Cartoon Kid by Siegfried Baber

Readings past …

I didn’t do a write up of the Mayfield Festival Fringe poetry evening, mainly because I was stuck in the hellhole of jury service, but it was a fab night. An absolutely packed room, I had to negotiate with the lovely host Sian Thomas for space to move (“no! don’t put any more chairs there!”). It was in the round and the audience was warm and attentive. My fellow readers were Patricia McCarthy (a dauntingly well-read poet, editor of the fine magazine Agenda and winner of the National Poetry Competition in 2013) and Jill Munro, doing her first fully-fledged reading and making a brilliant job of it. Very funny and definitely upcoming, with her first pamphlet out soon from Green Bottle Press.

Meanwhile here I am mid-flow with my ‘cartwheel’ poem…nothing to do with jazz hands, trust me.

Robin Houghton at the Mayfield Fringe Festival Poetry Night

Readings future…

Next Wednesday 20th May at the Barbican Library in London I’m on the bill for the launch event for Brittle Star issue 36. I love magazine launches as it gives you the chance to meet the other poets/writers in the same issue, and the editors of course, and you get a real feel for the culture/ethos of the publication, if that doesn’t sound too grand.

Doors open 6.30pm and it’s free, should be over by nine – do come!

On Sunday 14th June at 4pm I’m on home ground here in Lewes, reading at a wee fundraiser for St Anne’s Church, by invitation of lovely Lewes poet Ann Segrave, and with Mandy Pannett & Jeremy Page also reading. The theme is ‘creation’ (in a strictly ecumenical/not necessarily religious sense)… so I’d bettter get creating. Free, very relaxed and probably very Lewes!

On Thursday 18th June Telltale Poets & Friends is back at the Poetry Cafe in London, featuring a star-studded cast: Tamar Yoseloff, Sue Rose, our newest Telltale Sarah Barnsley, plus Peter Kenny & myself. It’s free, and it would be lovely to see you – please put it in your diary!

And the midsummer reading extravaganza continues with Camberwell Arts Festival, where I’ll be reading on Monday 22nd June alongside Richard Skinner, Roy Marshall and Josephine Corcoran. Lordy! What a poet-blogger fest that will be. Can’t wait!

 

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Coffee House Poetry at the Troubadour

Had a great evening yesterday at the Troubadour as Coffee House Poetry, Anne-Marie Fyfe’s fortnightly poetry readings, got underway for its summer season.

It’s a crazy scene –  the vibrancy, the quirkiness, the sheer number of people, Cahal Dallat’s virtuosic keyboard skills (yesterday the background medleys included opera classics and a rumbunctious dose of Mozart, all from memory). Moving amongst the crowd, Anne-Marie greets everyone and the whole place feels like a party. And who’s that sitting at the back? Oh, it’s Van Morrison and Jimmy Page, dropped by for a spot of poetry action. You can’t help but feel you’re on a film set. Love it!

Last night’s first half readers were Mark Huband, Scarlett Sabet, Will Burns & Miranda Peake, after which we had a brief musical interlude when Henry Fajemirokun played and sang a very nice Simon & Garfunkel number. Mark Huband’s background in journalism and travel writing informs his poetry – he read from his book ‘American Road’ and some extracts from a new long work. I loved the start of Scarlett Sabet’s set, a strong first poem full of promise. Towards the end she read some more performance-style poems which I find a bit harder to digest – I suppose I mean the repetition and relentless hard rhymes, which I find distract from the meaning and weaken the power of the words.  Miranda Peake admitted she was very nervous, which was a shame, because it dried out her voice – I suspect I would enjoy her poems on the page, they seemed accomplished.

I didn’t take notes, although I noticed a few people around me doing so. I wonder what they write? Maybe the names, for future reference, or perhaps an idea or two that needed capturing. I do sometimes find my mind wandering in a reading, but not in a bad way – it’s usually something I hear that takes seed or gives me a sudden angle on an old issue. As I’m writing now I’m remembering a couple of things I should have written down at the time. Oh well!  And the other thing I’m famously pants at is taking photos of well-lit readers in dark spaces. Which is why I only managed one, but the reader is so blanched out it could be anyone – although it is in fact Will Burns:

Will Burns Faber poet

The second half felt like the big-hitters, with Nigerian poet Inua Ellams (check out his beautiful and stylish website) full of warmth and humour getting things off to a cracking start, Tim Richardson – a big character with an even bigger following in the room, Roisin Tierney – authoritative presence & many Spanish food references and R.A. Villanueva, a vibrant American reader who I wish I could have paid more attention to, but I was a bit tired and thinking about my train at this point.

My favourite reading of the night was by Will Burns and I couldn’t wait to snap up a copy of his pamphlet. Something about his poetry made me sit up. There was nothing exotic about it, but it was extraordinary. The problem with writing about the extraordinary, whether it’s people, experiences, places, is that the writing has a lot to live up to. (See point 7 of Don Paterson’ tips). Plus there’s not always space for the reader. Whereas writing about the ordinary, in an extraordinary way, feels to me like the real work of poetry. It doesn’t just let me in, it reminds me there’s a reason to write and how much there is still to discover both in myself and in others.

On the home page of the website, a quote from Billy Collins declares that the Troubadour has “evolved over its 60 year history from a hidden-away beatnik coffee house to a world famous center for the performance of music and poetry.” Well, it still feels pretty beatnik to me, and nothing wrong with that.

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A poetry Spring clean

I’m finally getting myself back on track after two weeks of Jury Service. There are blogs to attend to, email updates to send, all manner of poetry admin for Telltale Press, Brighton Stanza and Needlewriters and maybe, just maybe some time to do some actual writing and even sending off. Oh and the small matter of a pending house move. Possibly.

So it’s time for some clearing out and cleaning up. A good friend recently did a massive wardrobe overhaul and I was the happy recipient of a ton of free clothes and ‘accessories’ – not being an accessories kind of gal I’ve now increased the number of scarves and bags I own by about 800%. My husband thinks I’ve been abducted and replaced with someone far more well-heeled. To make space for all this (we still live in a little house … at least for another 6 weeks or so) I now have another huge bag of other stuff to take to the charity shop. And a good clean out of drawers and wardrobe done prior to The Big Move.

What this is all leading up to of course is the fact that SPRING CLEAN MANIA has infected the ‘poetry’ folder (and all its sub-folders) on my computer.  I started archiving poems in February and both the ‘archive’ and ‘not for publication’ folders are now bulging. (The latter is important – if anything were to happen to me, it will be very clear to any kind friend or family member going through my poems WHICH ones must never see the light of day. A bit control-freakish? Maybe!)

I am also doing a ruthless cull of outstanding submissions. Yes folks, I’ve taken a unilateral decision – and no doubt some people will find this controversial – to finally consider dead those submissions I’ve been waiting on since August and September last year. Inasmuch as I’m taking them out of the ‘pending’ folder and either resubmitting, editing or shelving them.  Here’s how it all ended (an update to a previous post on this topic):

Magazine A: 4 poems submitted by email (£1 paid) August 2014 – that’s 268 days /38 weeks ago. First gentle enquiry sent November 2014, no response. Second enquiry January 2015, no response. Since then, I’ve heard from two poet friends that this particular magazine had never replied to their submissions either, even after a year. It’s a shame, because it was a good publication and I’ve had work in it in the past, but I feel all the goodwill I had for them has been sucked out me and spat back in my face.

Magazine B: 4 poems submitted September 2014. I had included two SAEs – one was purely a receipt, which was kindly sent back to me six weeks later. I provided this because 2 previous submissions had been lost.  I didn’t enquire about these poems, because I was reassured by the receipt, plus this is a magazine I have a lot of time for and I didn’t want to hassle the editors. When I did finally enquire recently, after 8 months, I did get a quick response, but it was clear from the many questions and answers we exchanged that the poems couldn’t be located. In the end I told them not to spend any more time looking, and that I would consider them withdrawn.

It was a sad decision to make, but I’ve had that particular editor running round looking for my poems more than once before, and there’s no point annoying editors unnecessarily or giving them extra work. There’s certainly no point flogging a dead horse: I can’t help but think that if there was anything good about the poems they wouldn’t have ended up at the bottom of a filing tray or stuck to the sole of someone’s shoe.

In the meantime, of course, many other publications have read and responded to submissions I’ve sent them, some quickly, some slowly, some acceptances but more rejections – and that’s the natural ebb and flow of poems in and poems out. As I’ve said before, I am sympathetic to overworked editors and in their position I’m sure I’d get fed up with reading bad work and dealing with the odd bit of bad poet behaviour. Although to be honest I don’t know of any poets who bombard magazines with stroppy enquiries or any of the other things we submitters are regularly accused of.

What I do know is that there are magazine editors who are good excellent at:

  1. managing poets’ expectations by keeping instructions on their website accurate – and if this means stating ‘do not enquire until after 6 months have passed’ or even ‘we do not respond to all submissions’ then so be it!  (I know of several publications who state these are their policies, and I respect them for that. After all, if I don’t like it, I don’t have to submit, do I?)
  2. responding to polite enquiries received after the ‘expect a reply by’ date. Is it so hard to do?

So – what now to do with the 8 poems now back in circulation? On first glance I think I’ve already revised a couple of them. There are another 3 or 4 I think I will shelve for now. Which leaves 2 or 3 I’m still happy with as is.

Now if I were REALLY serious about Spring cleaning I wouldn’t be archiving the old or bad poems, I’d be deleting them completely – but I just find that very hard to do, stupid as it may sound.

Anyway, that’s now off my chest. There is of course the small matter of the 5 poems submitted to another publication in November 2014 that I’m still waiting on … I’ve had no response to my two enquiries, but I’m giving it until July before writing that one off.

 

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Reading at Pighog Poetry Night in Brighton

Pighog Press has hosted a poetry night at the Redroaster cafe in Brighton for many years. I’ve attended quite a few times and it’s always an eclectic mix of the familiar, the unusual and the colourful (especially in the famous open mic slots).

The events are organised and hosted by Michaela Ridgway, herself a talented poet and the sort of person you want in a poetry workshop – always rigorous but fair in her criticism. Michaela is also an artist as you can see from her Tumblog.  Although Pighog was bought out last year by US publisher Red Hen, the poetry nights continue, and I was delighted when Michaela invited me to read there. I shared the bill with Andreea Stan, a Romanian poet & animator who I duly researched online and found some of her performances. Take a look at this one – a poem called ‘Seven Miles’ which Andreea also performed on Thursday.

We had a good audience and I was so pleased to see so many Stanza friends there, and even one of my schoolfriends came to cheer me on. Thanks, Caroline! I have to say that Michaela’s intro was the best I’ve ever received, especially her talking up of both my blog and Telltale Press. Twas wonderful.

I read a pretty similar set to the one I did at Lauderdale House, although I was a bit spooked by the lighting which I wasn’t expecting to be quite so directly in one’s eyes –  is that what it’s like for stage actors, I wonder? I like how it looks from the audience’s point of view, but with eye-contact a key part of my delivery I had to adjust! I made a bit of a slip up by forgetting to do my ‘thankyous’ before the final poem, which meant I had to hang about on stage at the end which rather spoilt the dramatic effect! Ah well!

Fellow Telltale Poets Peter Kenny & Sarah Barnsley were there, and Peter took some pics on his iPhone which I think have a certain blanched-out style, I quite like it actually …

Robin Houghton & Andreea Stan at Pighog

It’s funny how you learn something new every time you do one of these readings. It gets more enjoyable with practice, and it’s tempting to go a little further each time. A few nerves are still important I think. As is taking new risks. There’s a fine line between confident and polished, and slightly smug and a bit ‘phoned in’. And I don’t think I would ever be seen as a ‘performance’ poet, even though I know it doesn’t have to be all rapping, rhyming and ranting. Local to me, Susan Evans and Louise Taylor come to mind as performance poets I love to see and hear – larger than life, brilliant characters in themselves, witty observers. But there are blurred lines in the ‘performance vs page’ debate, which is why I can’t bring myself to think of them as different disciplines. I’m a big admirer of the performances of poets such as John Agard, Daljit Nagra and even Roger McGough. But I wouldn’t call them performance poets, but rather ‘accomplished poets who give compelling performances’. I think that’s what I aspire to.