This is the voice of someone who is both at home and not at home in the world. Sam Duckor-Jones's wonderfully fresh, funny, dishevelled poems are alive with art-making and fuelled by a hunger for intimacy. Giant clay men lurk in salons, the lawns of poets overgrow, petrolheads hoon along the beach, birds cry 'wow-okay, wow-okay, wow-okay'.
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This is the voice of someone who is both at home and not at home in the world. Sam Duckor-Jones's wonderfully fresh, funny, dishevelled poems are alive with art-making and fuelled by a hunger for intimacy. Giant clay men lurk in salons, the lawns of poets overgrow, petrolheads hoon along the beach, birds cry 'wow-okay, wow-okay, wow-okay'.
Read Less