This book is a collection of poems written by my good friend* Nicolas Spicer between 1999 and 2009. I've actually owned this book for about five years, and had been putting off reading it because when I read published poetry by people I know personally I do often get quite envious, not simply of their being published, but of their sheer brilliance of style that I would find it impossible to imitate (oh hello Kinsman & Otis) and obviously that isn't emotionally healthy & poets are generally neurotic enough as it is. But we all have our own voice, which is to be celebrated; although additional to mere style, Nick is known to me as something of an oracular genius when it comes to the history & diversity & techniques of poetry, having studied it at length & depth for much of his life in a way I never have, so I am reluctant to say anything critical of this book on here at all for thought that I would be scramblingly failing to articulate the very clever things he is doing with language that I am able to thoroughly enjoy aesthetically without being remotely capable of describing with any expertisemént.** What I will say is that I read this is one two-hour sitting & didn't have a lull of gripped interest throughout: the themes & feelings of these poems are wonderfully varied but the stylistic voice is so strong & consistent throughout that I almost heard his delivery ring in my ears as I read. An expert in the craft - highly recommended collection for poetry lovers.
* He's one of our most reliable (in terms of both consistency of attendance & quality of performance) regulars at Guerrilla, the spoken word night I host. So if you want to experience Nick's excellent poetry live, for free, in a very nice pub, you know where to start seeking the opportunity to do so.
** Not a word, I know. Shut up.
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