Sublime

We write and publish the McPoem— ten billion served —which becomes our contribution to the history of literature as the Model T is our contribution to a history which runs from bare feet past elephant and rickshaw to the vehicles of space. Pull in any time day or night, park by the busload, and the McPoem waits on the steam shelf for us, wrapped an

“Ross Wilcox’s a prat, not a poet. But if you’re going to suggest that I write a poem to Dawn Madden, no way. I’d be the village laughingstock.” “Absolutely, if you compose derivative verses of cupids and cliché, Miss Madden will remain with her ‘prat’ and you will justly earn derision. But if a poem is beauty and truth, your Miss Madden will treas

and you, García Lorca, what were you doing down by the watermelons?

As if on cue, the gap closed up and John Cooper Clarke appeared onstage to do his ‘Fuck’ poem.

Quite a strange man, thought James, watching him go – but what a relief to discover he still contained the capacity to be taken by surprise.