I have never been much of a fan of poetry. Like most people who did English GCSE in the late ’90s, I had a book with a selected slew of poetry which we studied, dissected and ground into meaninglessness, regurgitated arguments and learnt to be annoyed, rather than delighted, by someone’s careful choices of words.
Such is my love for every other form of word usage that I’ve never really re-engaged with poetry. I haven’t tried, I suppose, or found anything I liked, bar the John Betjeman and Pam...
Published on September 22, 2013 10:08