I’ve been looking forward to James Roome’s follow-on collection from his debut Bull – also with The Red Ceilings Press – which had signalled a distinctive absurdist voice and way of seeing things.
I have not been disappointed.
This too is a visit to the bizarre normalcy of Roome’s poetic world, and there is plenty of playfulness throughout, not least the statistical extrapolations that begin this collection in A study has shown.
But don’t be fooled by the child’s craft-box book cover design. The background colour is clearly a universe on fire, burning a deep and beautiful red. And the crocodile-green is no doubt eco-friendly, but then there is the poetic prevalence of grey*: the grey scales and the grey teeth, sharp and deadly. And the eyes? The sclera is grey too, and we know how they follow and stalk. These are dangerous prose poems snapping at our laugh-or-cry heels as we read, running on to the next disturbing eyeballs of Ms Maytree.
Be prepared for the delightful evacuation.
For more details and to buy, go here.
My review of Bull is here.
*if you’re seeing a hint of blue, you are not paying attention…