I have, since January this year, read nothing but poetry. I say nothing, I have read the paper, and the intyweb, and comics of course. But NO novels, no non fiction books. Just poetry.

I have let one poet lead to the next, travelling through the scenery of Wordsworth and Yeats, Heaney and MacNeice, Hughes and Donne, Rosetti and Pound, Blake and Betjamen, Housman and Gunn, Auden and Hardy. I could go on, but I won’t. Read the these poems. I think they are good.