You filthy dog. I see what you've been doing, don't think I don't. And it's disgusting. You, yes YOU, make me want to retch up my vodka-soaked guts and then rub the Me Mess into my own eyes so I don't have to see you any more. Even your mother would slap that face. Hard.
This is this premise - kind of - for my recently "Venture Poetry Award" short-listed collection, "Our Terraced Hum". Me starin at people an things an dat from my dank pit window. And then writing lovely sonnets about the things I see. Awww.
Anyway I'll be reading from this collection at the Oxford House Theatre in London, on 12th April (6:30-eternity / 9pm)
Details below, 7 whole British pounds to get in.
http://www.flippedeye.net/venture/92/shortlist-readings/
Russell Jones
No comments:
Post a Comment