Changes

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I've said it before, and I'll end up saying it again – for sheer variety of contents, and diversity on the page, you can seldom beat poetry. Here are bullied children, the angst of parental break-up, and hard-done-by gods getting revenge. We're in the realm of myth, and Richmond Park, and Eastbourne. We're with whale sharks, or stuck in tower blocks, or feeding the seagulls that are with us in the latter but that ought to be with the former. We're rapping about puberty, visiting our absent father to tell him our exam results, and leaving for university. I'm sure you'll agree, that's spread enough for any book, let alone a slender hundred pages.