I'm chock full of shame,

riven with dark man-jostling alleyways, a treasure map of buried trauma

I met with the poet Richard Scott in Bethnal Green this week, to discuss his work and the work of Jean Genet on Montez Press Radio, a broadcasting initiative run by my publisher. London was sparkling, one of those rare summer days where this city seems to work, emotionally, libidinally, in favour of a light way of being. I walked along the canal feeling…

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