Imprisonment (including that of notorious killers), a sense of metaphorical prisons, "border states between the Kingdom of Pity and the Republic of Terror' childhood, love, deeply personal yet universal fear: set against a backdrop of late Thatcherist enterprise zones, 'the racket of money being made', urban decay and dissolved lives. Tender, too, and sharp imagery; contrasts between dead postcard images and the more diffuse mess of living and dying. And memory:
We are, what the rain sees, never where we are but somewhere yesterday, some other place we're on the way to, anticipations turning into memory.
These events are put together backwards from hints, shreds of evidence and hearsay, restricted information, bias measured out into the tight little shoes of language.
A dispossessed voice among rubbish heaps, blowing in cold winds, yet being heard here against the ruthless PR registers of dominance.