A Fine Fine Place (eBook, ePUB)
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This book was originally published in 2017. We were living in interesting times. Political turbulence. A footballer valued at nearly £200m while tower blocks round the country are clad in flammable materials to save a few thousand. The leadership of a world power falling into the hands of a man who tweets his policies in the small hours with the emotional coherence of a teenager after one too many Jägerbombs and a dodgy kebab. Extreme weather. Poet Tony Walsh showing the power of words and humanity after the Manchester bombing, and Heather Heyer's mom doing it after Charlottesville. There we...
This book was originally published in 2017. We were living in interesting times. Political turbulence. A footballer valued at nearly £200m while tower blocks round the country are clad in flammable materials to save a few thousand. The leadership of a world power falling into the hands of a man who tweets his policies in the small hours with the emotional coherence of a teenager after one too many Jägerbombs and a dodgy kebab. Extreme weather. Poet Tony Walsh showing the power of words and humanity after the Manchester bombing, and Heather Heyer's mom doing it after Charlottesville. There were two print runs of this book, and it has now completely sold out. 50% of the money raised from sales of this digital edition will go to support The Haven women's refuge in Wolverhampton. 'Some books of poetry make you wonder why they were written. Not this one. These poems throb with life - muscular, passionate, emotional, rational, compassionate. These poems are the verbal equivalent of earworms. These poems had to be written.' Brenda Read-Brown, poet. 'This is indeed a fine, fine collection. Human and humane. Incisive and at times acerbic. There is here poetry that bites with 'sharp perfect teeth', but there is also laughter, joy and hope. Pottinger is a master of his craft and a truly coherent voice for our times.' Emma Purshouse, poet. 'Steve Pottinger is a POET with a capital everything. See his poet's feet, set fast in Midlands concrete. See his long poet's arms, reaching out to draw close to his heart life's done-in, done-down and done-over. See his whopping great poet's fists, full of love and rage, ready as needs be to caress or deck humanity in all its beautiful stupidity. And hear him, as comfortable painting to life the drunken nighthawks of the last train home as he is tearing into those who'd judge a child's laughter / a mother's hope / or a girl's dreams / by which side of a border they live on.' Jonny Fluffypunk, poet.
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