There once was a man from Nantucket, and so on.

Am in the middle of a quarter-life crisis, which has made for a very sucky day. Frankly, I blame the book Posession by A.S Byatt as while it is a fantastic book, it does leave you curled up in the corner sucking your thumb and rocking.

This is the effect that poetry has on me. I just can’t come at it, never have and most likely never will. I like Emily Dickinson, Christina Rossetti and Sylvia Plath, and that’s about it. And Lewis Carroll of course.

Nothing makes me happier than memories of my grandfather reciting “You Are Old, Father William” randomly whenever he came to stay.