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The Hat-Stand Union
Extending the vigorous world she created in her previous collections, Caroline Bird’s The Hat-Stand Union is a book about isolated people. Some are isolated within a couple, some in a crowd, some have actively chosen to retreat, and others are frantically trying to join forces with something, anything: a lover, a religion, a country, a cause. The poems contain more shadows now, more tones of voice, a fuller anger, and a broader love of life and language. Her imagination is inventive and bizarre; she teaches how extraordinary, dangerous, joyful, and full of surprise everyday life can be.
- GenresPoetry
93 pages, Paperback
First published April 1, 2013
2 people are currently reading
28 people want to read
About the author
Caroline Bird
18 books49 followersCaroline Bird was born in 1986 and grew up in Leeds before moving to London in 2001.
Caroline had been shortlisted for the Dylan Thomas Prize twice in 2008 and 2010 and was the youngest writer on the list both times. She was a finalist for the Susan Smith Blackburn Prize 2014. She has also won an Eric Gregory Award (2002) and the Foyle Young Poet of the Year award two years running (1999, 2000), and was a winner of the Poetry London Competition in 2007, the Peterloo Poetry Competition in 2004, 2003 and 2002. Caroline was on the shortlist for Shell Woman Of The Future Awards 2011.
Caroline has had four collections of poetry published by Carcanet. Her first collection Looking Through Letterboxes (published in 2002 when she was only 15) is a topical, zesty and formally delightful collection of poems built on the traditions of fairy tale, fantasy and romance. Her second collection, Trouble Came to the Turnip, was published in September 2006 to critical acclaim. Watering Can, her third collection published in November 2009 celebrates life as an early twenty-something with comedy, wordplay and bright self-deprecation. Her fourth collection, The Hat-Stand Union, was described by Simon Armitage as ‘spring-loaded, funny, sad and deadly.’ Her fifth collection, In These Days of Prohibition, is due to be published July 2017.
Bird’s poems have been published in several anthologies and journals including Poetry Magazine, PN Review, Poetry Review and The North magazine. Several of her poems and a commissioned short story, Sucking Eggs, have been broadcast on BBC Radio 4 and BBC Radio 3. She was one of the five official poets at London Olympics 2012. Her poem, The Fun Palace, which celebrates the life and work of Joan Littlewood, is now erected on the Olympic Site outside the main stadium.
In recent years, Caroline has given poetry performances at Aldeburgh Festival, Latitude Festival, the Manchester Literature Festival, the Wellcome Collection (with Don Paterson,) the Royal Festival Hall (with Elaine Feinstein), St Hilda’s College (with Wendy Cope), the Wordsworth Trust (with Gillian Allnutt), Cheltenham Festival, and Ledbury Festival, amongst others.
Caroline Bird began writing plays as a teenager when she was the youngest ever member of the Royal Court Young Writer’s Programme, tutored by Simon Stephens. In 2011 Caroline was invited to take part in Sixty Six Books by the Bush Theatre. She wrote a piece inspired by Leviticus, directed by Peter Gill. In February 2012, her Beano-inspired musical, The Trial of Dennis the Menace was performed in the Purcell Room at the Southbank Centre. She is currently writing the book and lyrics for Dennis the Menace the Musical for The Old Vic.
Caroline’s new version of The Trojan Women premiered at the Gate Theatre at the end of 2012 to wide critical acclaim. Caroline’s play Chamber Piece featured as Show 3 in the Lyric Theatre Hammersmith’s Secret Theatre season, premiering in October 2013, before touring the country. In 2013, Caroline was short-listed for Most Promising New Playwright at the Off-West-End Awards. In Christmas 2015, her re-twisted telling of The Wonderful Wizard of Oz premiered at Northern Stage, and received a four star review in The Times.
Caroline is also an enthusiastic leader of poetry workshops. In addition to working in primary and secondary schools, she is also a regular teacher at the Arvon Foundation. She is one of the writers-in-residence for the charity First Story. She is currently mentoring three exciting poets – Rachel Long, Emma Simon and Hilary Watson – for the Jerwood Arvon Mentorship Scheme.
Caroline had been shortlisted for the Dylan Thomas Prize twice in 2008 and 2010 and was the youngest writer on the list both times. She was a finalist for the Susan Smith Blackburn Prize 2014. She has also won an Eric Gregory Award (2002) and the Foyle Young Poet of the Year award two years running (1999, 2000), and was a winner of the Poetry London Competition in 2007, the Peterloo Poetry Competition in 2004, 2003 and 2002. Caroline was on the shortlist for Shell Woman Of The Future Awards 2011.
Caroline has had four collections of poetry published by Carcanet. Her first collection Looking Through Letterboxes (published in 2002 when she was only 15) is a topical, zesty and formally delightful collection of poems built on the traditions of fairy tale, fantasy and romance. Her second collection, Trouble Came to the Turnip, was published in September 2006 to critical acclaim. Watering Can, her third collection published in November 2009 celebrates life as an early twenty-something with comedy, wordplay and bright self-deprecation. Her fourth collection, The Hat-Stand Union, was described by Simon Armitage as ‘spring-loaded, funny, sad and deadly.’ Her fifth collection, In These Days of Prohibition, is due to be published July 2017.
Bird’s poems have been published in several anthologies and journals including Poetry Magazine, PN Review, Poetry Review and The North magazine. Several of her poems and a commissioned short story, Sucking Eggs, have been broadcast on BBC Radio 4 and BBC Radio 3. She was one of the five official poets at London Olympics 2012. Her poem, The Fun Palace, which celebrates the life and work of Joan Littlewood, is now erected on the Olympic Site outside the main stadium.
In recent years, Caroline has given poetry performances at Aldeburgh Festival, Latitude Festival, the Manchester Literature Festival, the Wellcome Collection (with Don Paterson,) the Royal Festival Hall (with Elaine Feinstein), St Hilda’s College (with Wendy Cope), the Wordsworth Trust (with Gillian Allnutt), Cheltenham Festival, and Ledbury Festival, amongst others.
Caroline Bird began writing plays as a teenager when she was the youngest ever member of the Royal Court Young Writer’s Programme, tutored by Simon Stephens. In 2011 Caroline was invited to take part in Sixty Six Books by the Bush Theatre. She wrote a piece inspired by Leviticus, directed by Peter Gill. In February 2012, her Beano-inspired musical, The Trial of Dennis the Menace was performed in the Purcell Room at the Southbank Centre. She is currently writing the book and lyrics for Dennis the Menace the Musical for The Old Vic.
Caroline’s new version of The Trojan Women premiered at the Gate Theatre at the end of 2012 to wide critical acclaim. Caroline’s play Chamber Piece featured as Show 3 in the Lyric Theatre Hammersmith’s Secret Theatre season, premiering in October 2013, before touring the country. In 2013, Caroline was short-listed for Most Promising New Playwright at the Off-West-End Awards. In Christmas 2015, her re-twisted telling of The Wonderful Wizard of Oz premiered at Northern Stage, and received a four star review in The Times.
Caroline is also an enthusiastic leader of poetry workshops. In addition to working in primary and secondary schools, she is also a regular teacher at the Arvon Foundation. She is one of the writers-in-residence for the charity First Story. She is currently mentoring three exciting poets – Rachel Long, Emma Simon and Hilary Watson – for the Jerwood Arvon Mentorship Scheme.
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Displaying 1 - 5 of 5 reviews
January 9, 2017
Sometimes when I discover an absolutely transcendent book of verse I'm torn between the nearly insatiable need to plough straight through to the end and a seemingly irrepressible desire to leap up from my chair and share one or more of the volume's fantastic poems with as many poetry-loving friends as possible. On the one hand, I can't wait to devour the poems as quickly as I possibly can, while on the other, I want to do my best to slowly savor the best ones while soliciting the input of my most treasured companions.
You know, a book just like this one.
You know, a book just like this one.
December 21, 2021
Medicine
My head says soon
My heart says, when?
My head says one
My heart says ten
My head says skin
My heart says soul
My head says stuffed
My heart says whole
My head says willing
My heart says slave
My head says risky
My heart says brave
My head says breathe
My heart says snort
My head says saved
My heart says caught
My head says mend
My heart says lie
My head says policy
My heart says spy
My head says addict
My heart says, who?
My head says cynical
My heart says true
My head says fed
My heart says fat
My head says insecure
My heart says prat
My head says episode
My heart says life
My head says lover
My heart says wife
My head says children
My heart says, how?
My head says ambulance
My heart says now
My head says telephone
My heart says please
My head says hands
My heart says knees
My head says miracle
My heart says, when?
My head says snort
My heart says ten
My head says telephone
My heart says spy
My head says caught
My heart says lie
My head says stuffed
My heart says fat
My head says risky
My heart says prat
My head says ambulance
My heart says please
My head says policy
My heart says knees
My head says breathe
My heart says brave
My head says cynical
My heart says slave
My head says addict
My heart says soul
My head says soon
My heart says whole
My head says lover
My heart says true
My head says insecure
My heart says, who?
My head says children
My heart says wife
My head says miracle
My heart says life
My head says mend
My heart says, how?
My head says willing
My heart says now
Marriage of Equals
You hated the theatre and I hated the museums.
I didn't notice the butterflies.
You didn’t notice the homeless.
I felt oppressed by Auden's old boys study castles.
You planted sapling projects in grey rockeries.
I got obsessed with poignant lines of graffiti.
You understood Oyster cards and booking in advance.
I had to wrench my head back from cauldrons of wine.
You had one beer in contentment.
My friends were idealists who started off yodelling.
Your friends were realists who started off hissing.
Your world was steadily increasing.
My government didn’t exist.
You felt the bank balance of the nation in the tips of your fingers.
I bought rare, coffee-spoilt poetry books with crippled spines
from extortionate magpies in Iowa.
You saw the good in Thatcher.
I watched Ken Loach films in a dark room warmed
by the ghost of my grandfather's Yorkshire coal.
I could take or leave the planetarium.
You collided with Andromeda in your insomnia.
I was fine with pills.
You defied shrinks with your in-house mental janitor.
I sat down on the Tube when travelling just one stop.
You would never buy mystery meat from a backstreet 'all you can eat'
buffet called 'Puff the Chinese Dragon'.
I had never bought a sprig of ginger.
You blamed Gordon Brown for the future death of the sun.
I blamed the Rich in general while snacking
on a bite-size cube of decorated fruit cake.
I thought of Kirsty MacColl at Christmas.
You thought of your father‘s erratic moods.
I jogged alone on the treadmill in front of a mirror.
You punched the air with your lacrosse stick in school year-group
photos
I let potential serial killers use my bathroom after closing time.
You always packed a toothbrush.
I owned every Mike Leigh, even the early BBC television stuff.
You found Career Girls over-acted and plotless.
I wept outwardly for a week, inwardly for a year.
You didn’t know who Adrian Mitchell was.
I couldn’t assemble a pop-up tent.
You wouldn’t let anyone read your self-penned screenplays.
I recited poems I wrote yesterday in busy restaurants
to embarrassed olive-skinned companions.
You read Sherlock Holmes novels in small print with a magnifying
glass.
Your mum said, 'Go get your girl.'
My mum said, 'Stop proposing to slender-necked lampposts.'
You plunged the knife deeply and once.
I supported huge government funding for chocolate sculptures.
You audibly scoffed during my one-act Hoodie Hamlet.
I had a subtle nervous twitch triggered by memories of candlelight
and Leonard Cohen’s 'The Partisan'.
You built Jerusalem on England's green and pleasant land.
I reinvented the fish pun.
You closed up like the magic portal.
I took the long slide down into the pool.
My head says soon
My heart says, when?
My head says one
My heart says ten
My head says skin
My heart says soul
My head says stuffed
My heart says whole
My head says willing
My heart says slave
My head says risky
My heart says brave
My head says breathe
My heart says snort
My head says saved
My heart says caught
My head says mend
My heart says lie
My head says policy
My heart says spy
My head says addict
My heart says, who?
My head says cynical
My heart says true
My head says fed
My heart says fat
My head says insecure
My heart says prat
My head says episode
My heart says life
My head says lover
My heart says wife
My head says children
My heart says, how?
My head says ambulance
My heart says now
My head says telephone
My heart says please
My head says hands
My heart says knees
My head says miracle
My heart says, when?
My head says snort
My heart says ten
My head says telephone
My heart says spy
My head says caught
My heart says lie
My head says stuffed
My heart says fat
My head says risky
My heart says prat
My head says ambulance
My heart says please
My head says policy
My heart says knees
My head says breathe
My heart says brave
My head says cynical
My heart says slave
My head says addict
My heart says soul
My head says soon
My heart says whole
My head says lover
My heart says true
My head says insecure
My heart says, who?
My head says children
My heart says wife
My head says miracle
My heart says life
My head says mend
My heart says, how?
My head says willing
My heart says now
Marriage of Equals
You hated the theatre and I hated the museums.
I didn't notice the butterflies.
You didn’t notice the homeless.
I felt oppressed by Auden's old boys study castles.
You planted sapling projects in grey rockeries.
I got obsessed with poignant lines of graffiti.
You understood Oyster cards and booking in advance.
I had to wrench my head back from cauldrons of wine.
You had one beer in contentment.
My friends were idealists who started off yodelling.
Your friends were realists who started off hissing.
Your world was steadily increasing.
My government didn’t exist.
You felt the bank balance of the nation in the tips of your fingers.
I bought rare, coffee-spoilt poetry books with crippled spines
from extortionate magpies in Iowa.
You saw the good in Thatcher.
I watched Ken Loach films in a dark room warmed
by the ghost of my grandfather's Yorkshire coal.
I could take or leave the planetarium.
You collided with Andromeda in your insomnia.
I was fine with pills.
You defied shrinks with your in-house mental janitor.
I sat down on the Tube when travelling just one stop.
You would never buy mystery meat from a backstreet 'all you can eat'
buffet called 'Puff the Chinese Dragon'.
I had never bought a sprig of ginger.
You blamed Gordon Brown for the future death of the sun.
I blamed the Rich in general while snacking
on a bite-size cube of decorated fruit cake.
I thought of Kirsty MacColl at Christmas.
You thought of your father‘s erratic moods.
I jogged alone on the treadmill in front of a mirror.
You punched the air with your lacrosse stick in school year-group
photos
I let potential serial killers use my bathroom after closing time.
You always packed a toothbrush.
I owned every Mike Leigh, even the early BBC television stuff.
You found Career Girls over-acted and plotless.
I wept outwardly for a week, inwardly for a year.
You didn’t know who Adrian Mitchell was.
I couldn’t assemble a pop-up tent.
You wouldn’t let anyone read your self-penned screenplays.
I recited poems I wrote yesterday in busy restaurants
to embarrassed olive-skinned companions.
You read Sherlock Holmes novels in small print with a magnifying
glass.
Your mum said, 'Go get your girl.'
My mum said, 'Stop proposing to slender-necked lampposts.'
You plunged the knife deeply and once.
I supported huge government funding for chocolate sculptures.
You audibly scoffed during my one-act Hoodie Hamlet.
I had a subtle nervous twitch triggered by memories of candlelight
and Leonard Cohen’s 'The Partisan'.
You built Jerusalem on England's green and pleasant land.
I reinvented the fish pun.
You closed up like the magic portal.
I took the long slide down into the pool.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
May 23, 2021
3.5/5
all in all i enjoyed this collection, it was my first time reading caroline bird. sometimes the imagery had me a bit confused but nonetheless was something i felt inspired by.
my favourite poems were Genesis and Two Cents.
honourable mentions to these lines:
‘I couldn’t smoke a cigarette
without apologising to the walls.’
‘I arrived for the revolution with my lunchbox.’
‘I’m leaving once my dignity has truly gone and not just nipped out for crisps.’
all in all i enjoyed this collection, it was my first time reading caroline bird. sometimes the imagery had me a bit confused but nonetheless was something i felt inspired by.
my favourite poems were Genesis and Two Cents.
honourable mentions to these lines:
‘I couldn’t smoke a cigarette
without apologising to the walls.’
‘I arrived for the revolution with my lunchbox.’
‘I’m leaving once my dignity has truly gone and not just nipped out for crisps.’
April 3, 2018
Bonkers brilliant
Read
April 8, 2025Especially love ‘Damage’, ‘Public Detectives’ and ‘Thoughts inside a Head inside a Kennel inside a Church’.
Displaying 1 - 5 of 5 reviews