Poems from Oxford Poetry, Propel Magazine, etc. "If Polari was a kind of Birdsong" begins with "The landscape is gay because I am./ The moor's crushed heather curves, the wide/ woke ocean with her singing tides will upset/ some of you, I'm sure. The pink mushroom/ with infinite sexes, the bees like tiny vibrators", which I can handle, but much else is beyond me. When I feel I understand a piece (think I know what it's aiming to do, etc) I often don't think much of it - a sign that I'm not on the poet's wavelength. An example is p.46.
I like parts more than wholes - e.g. "The language of birds holds a dozen-thousand minutiae, irreplicable in human speech. To have mastery of it is to know the taste of each kind of sky, to angle wings for an updraft, to be liquid as a kingfisher" (p.52). My favourites are "Petrified Forest, Redcar" and "How the Braag Did The Trick"
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