If I were to summarise why I normally enjoy reading, I would say that I like a little slice of escapism from harsh reality. Granted this is true more of fiction than poetry, and when I feel the need to immerse myself in fanciful verse, I tend to read poets such as Wordsworth or Coleridge.
When reading contemporary poetry, it has to be blunt. It has to be honest. It has to ring true. If my mind begins to drift then the poem has nothing to say. What’s the point in that? If I want to read a bunch of tantalising words, I’ll read the label of my shampoo.

Mistress Quickly’s Bed Issue 6 has a few goodies that not only kept me focused on the page, but got me thinking. Continue reading →