You can't fax a handshake

I like this expression, which is taken from a New York Times piece about Obama's recent meeting with Wall Street bankers.
On the news this week is disruption in the postal service. On a Radio 5 phone-in, I heard the anchor referring frequently to 'posties' instead of 'postmen' or 'postwomen'. I find 'postie' - a term which appears to have taken root - strangely unpleasant. I also dislike the expression 'toastie', which is used (in Liverpool anyway) for a toasted sandwich.
I shall have to mull this over at the weekend, when I'm making the mostie of my Sunday roastie.

The Poet's Perspective

I've got a poem in The Poet's Perspective, a new book compiled and edited by Gladys Mary Coles. The book matches paintings in Liverpool's Walker Art Gallery to poems by a range of invited poets. My own contribution responds to a portrait of Edward Lear by Holman Hunt. The Walker has a particularly large holding of work by the pre-Raphaelites and these are duly reflected in the anthology. It's out from Headland Press.

Manchester Review

I have four poems in the new online issue of the The Manchester Review. They are all centred on my 1990s sojourn in Oxford, especially my part-time job as a porter. There is even a reference to Eddie Jordan.

John Littlewood

The British chess world is in mourning for John Littlewood, who passed away at the age of 78. I first came across this fine gentleman in his declining years, when he was active in the Merseyside chess league. On the website of my local club, John Carleton, has written a moving tribute.

The default poem

I see that Rob Mackenzie, at Magma magazine, has picked up on my idea of the default poem. I think this idea came from being encouraged by a music review to listen for the notes which a particular musician did not play. Ever since, I've always thought it helpful to think about an art form from the point of view of what it is not doing - if nothing else it's a good way of avoiding default forms.

Tom Leonard

I'm here at the IASIL conference in Glasgow. A few days ago, I was looking forward to a lunchtime reading by Tom Leonard at The Loft restaurant. Unfortunately, the sound system tanked. So Tom Leonard never actually said a word, but was reduced to looking rather pained as the diners carried on around him. I hope that is not the last chance I get to see him read.

New P. N. Review

I'm in the new P. N. Review(188) with a review of Vona Groarke's translation of Lament for Art O'Leary. The same issue also has a good interview with Steve Burt, plus a new poem by R. F. Langley (who is about as under-rated as any poet I have ever read.)