A somewhat ugly non traditionally romantic poet, Peter Reading, has been within arms reach these last couple of weeks. In fitting with past discussions of romanticism, Reading’s ‘Perduta Gente’ explores the great unwashed. The dossers, dispossessed in their dreadful dispositions. The winos & unworthies, expendable & gagged in the modern world.
His use of graphics in the book is commendable. Taking newspaper layouts and spitting satirical smirks at the property market. Notebook formats and medical reports tell stories of which we never learn the outcome, yet remind us of the mundane, the tragic & and thoughts that make us feel sorry for another.
It’s a great exploration of city street dwellers, taking on the accent of a drunk & the swelling scents of a diseased limb. The kind of writings that make me want to list a thousand words I’ve never used before in a context completely indescribable. That perhaps, is what makes good poetry…
His use of graphics in the book is commendable. Taking newspaper layouts and spitting satirical smirks at the property market. Notebook formats and medical reports tell stories of which we never learn the outcome, yet remind us of the mundane, the tragic & and thoughts that make us feel sorry for another.
It’s a great exploration of city street dwellers, taking on the accent of a drunk & the swelling scents of a diseased limb. The kind of writings that make me want to list a thousand words I’ve never used before in a context completely indescribable. That perhaps, is what makes good poetry…
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