They’ve arrived. Copies of Jam. You never know what your book’s going to be like until you hold a copy in your hand.
They arrived yesterday, in fact, but I didn’t get my hands on them until the evening. I got back from Aston University (an RLF Fellowship day) to find one of those notes you get, by the front door: ‘Sorry you were out…’ The good news was I didn’t have to walk to the delivery office on the other side of town to get them (and I’d never have been able to carry them on my bike). They’d been left at a drop-off point, Bargain Booze, just round the corner. I told the bloke what was in the box. ‘I’m not very poetic, I’m afraid,’ he said. ‘It’s OK, I’m not either.’
Also yesterday, I had another poem from Jam published online in International Times, ‘Dog-speak’. Jake is really Pi, a Jack Russell that lives over the road. Pi’s great. One of my heroes. He makes you glad to be alive.