Shouting

Yesterday in the post office there was a full-volume row going on between a man and a woman about who slept with who and whether rubbers were used or not and I and the rest of the queue were listening in passive silence until the whole thing seemed about to escalate and I said something like Whoah, which is what you say to a horse, and the man told me to fuck off, he was having a private conversation with his wife, so I shrugged and got on with buying my stamps.

What I really wanted to say was that CBe’s first book of new poetry, Natural Mechanical by J. O. Morgan, published next February, is a Poetry Book Society Recommendation, which is no mega deal but golly it’s something, it’s peer-group recognition and more than a pat on the back, it’s something that poets can write and publish half a dozen slim vols without getting, and not only is the book good but it’s one of the few that should find readers outside the usual tight little poetry circles, and tomorrow I think I will go to the post office and start shouting about it.