Bill Manhire has always subscribed to Paul Valery's definition of poetry as 'a prolonged hesitation between sound and sense'. In that spirit, many of the poems in this new, dazzling collection blend story and song, and do so using everyday words and phrases that - suddenly, on the page - become new and delightfully weird.
This is a many-peopled collection: the baffled inhabitants of Every Street and Intermediate Street are here, while Dracula, T.S. Eliot and Bobby Outram from Outram have walk-on parts. The collection is anchored by two long sequences that embrace awkwardness, mystery and absurdity: 'The Tobacco Tin', a kind of folk story riding along on its own lacunae, and 'Tell You What', a set of curmudgeonly opinions that evoke the prejudices of a fast-vanishing world.
As they notice the small collisions between wonder and everyday reality, and the trajectories of those who don't fit easily in this world, these poems close in on the darker certainties of our lives.
