Tag Archives: Bohdan Piasecki

Grizzly Pear: A Retrospect

DISCLAIMER
This will be the last review I write for Grizzly Pear; it might also be the last review I write for Blogfest, so expect emotions, sentimentality and a good dose of self-deprecation. It’s like a review cocktail – snappy title to be confirmed.

 HISTORY (Part One)
Roughly two years ago Ben Norris had an idea: transform Writers’ Bloc much-loved but irregularly attended and unnamed open mic night into the poetry night to go to in Birmingham. Names were thrown around –Loudhailer was a rumoured favourite – Grizzly Pear was born and so were a series of questionable posters. Some of the biggest names in poetry have headlined: Tim Clare, Vanessa Kissule, Bohdan Piasecki, Katie Bonna. Ben Norris’s ego hasn’t inflated to the size of the top room of the Bristol Pear; in fact, he’s still a very humble but incredibly hardworking man.

 TONIGHT/ THIS MORNING (Part One)
It’s 00.16. I just attended my last Grizzly Pear.

SENTIMENTAL PERSONAL NOTE (Part One)
Three years ago I joined Writers’ Bloc. In the ArtSoc room of the Guild I met most of my current housemates and many of the friends I still have now. I met a whole host of students who seemed incredibly knowledgeable and full of ideas. I met people who could write. I met people who could write fantastically. I met people who were interested in what I was writing. I met people who wanted to help me become a better writer.

At the end of my first year of university, I finally plucked up the courage to read a poem on the stage of the Bristol Pear. I basically read to about twenty people I called friends and it was the most terrifying yet comforting environment. Now they can’t get me off the stage. Okay, they can. Luckily for most I’m a get-on-stage-read-your-poem-and-go kind of girl. (Is that lucky? I’ve never reviewed my own poems.)

DISCLAIMER TWO
Yes, all the times I’ve reviewed Grizzly Pear I’ve read a poem too. Shocking, I know. I mean, writing poetry and writing a review? I didn’t get enough attention as a child.

SENTIMENTAL PERSONAL NOTE (Part One and a Half)
Basically, without Writers’ Bloc and its open mic nights I wouldn’t have got over my fear of public speaking and I definitely wouldn’t be writing poetry, let alone going to do a Master’s in poetry. I’m naming my first child after all former and current committee members.

DISCLAIMER THREE
If I do actually name my first child after you all, you all have to buy it a present.

TONIGHT/ THIS MORNING (Part Two) 
What’s great about Grizzly Pear is that it’s diverse: poems can be funny, poignant, satirical, political, emotional, reflective (and sometimes all these things at once), and Grizzly Pear’s open mic section always offers at least one of each.

Funny poem: Meg Tapp’s ‘I Look At Other Men’
A sort of love poem to her boyfriend that also gave us an insight into what it’s like to fancy anything with a pulse (or just waiters and celebrities). It was hilarious, but also contained some really well-wrought images.

Poignant poem: by Lorna Meehan
Poems about ‘big societal issues’ often come across as boring: yes, we agree that certain things are wrong with the world, but writing about it doesn’t necessarily make a good poem. Luckily, Lorna is an excellent poet and tackles such issues with a personal edge. Using an image of a woman weighing lettuce leaves, Lorna took the audience on a journey through the difficulties of eating disorders. It was a wonderfully performed and beautifully written poem.

Satirical poem: by Jack Crowe
I class Jack Crowe’s poem as the ‘satirical one’ because ‘Neil Cornwell has stated that “satire, humour and incongruity are always potential ingredients of the absurd”.’ (And that, dear readers, is also the first line of my undergraduate dissertation. Riveting, I know.) Jack Crowe does absurdism brilliantly. Basically, his poems contain the Russell Edson and Luke Kennard tone that I have spent nine months trying to perfect and haven’t. Jack Crowe’s speaker was planning a mental breakdown and the perfected factual manner complimented the black humour perfectly.

DISCLAIMER THREE:
Jack Crowe, I’ll buy your first collection when it comes out.

TONIGHT/ THIS MORNING (Part Two and a Quarter)
Political poem: by James Grady

James Grady used to attend the University of Birmingham and having performed at some festivals last summer, I’ve heard rumours that he might be doing something similar again. If he’s not, he should. I call James Grady’s poem ‘political’ in the best sense possible: it isn’t one of those ‘stand on my soapbox and rant to you about stuff’ kind of poems; James Grady is able to weave topical issues into a well-rhymed, lively performance that is full to the brim with laughs. Think Luke Wright with less hair.

Emotional poem: Lily Blacksell’s break up poem.
She said that she writes poems that aren’t just about being in love or break ups, but they’re good, so she can carry on doing so if she’d like. Actually, Lily, you can just write the former, because I’m not endorsing heartbreak. Lily does beautiful images and a dry sense of humour like no one else. Another one for the festival circuit, I think. (By the way, she’s also the new President of Writers’ Bloc, so she’s basically the queen.)

 SENTIMENTAL PERSONAL NOTE (Part Two)

This one time, in Writers’ Bloc, there was this really cool inter-university poetry slam, and Lily was on the University of Birmingham team. She was nicknamed ‘the duchess’, so her queen status isn’t really an exaggeration at all. She just climbed the social ladder. It’s like she’s Cady Heron but the Burn Book is just a book of really good poems.

 TONIGHT/ THIS MORNING (Part Two and Half)

Reflective poem(s): James Dolton, Miles Bradley and Ben Norris

I think this would be an ultimate dream-team poetry combo, but alas, all three performed separately. Their work had similar themes though, so I shall group them all together. The poets considered what the last three years have meant to them in very different ways: James Dolton’s was a darker look at what one might have experienced at university, but what will be lost as a result of leaving it; resident Grizzly Pear DJ Miles Bradley made us consider that Ben Norris might have forced us to read poetry for the past two years.

SENTIMENTAL PERSONAL NOTE (Part Three)
Miles doesn’t get enough credit. Every Grizzly Pear he makes me want to dance. Thank you, Miles.

TONIGHT/ THIS MORNING (Part Two and Three-quarters)
And Ben Norris read a poem about how everyone thinks we haven’t been living in the ‘real world’ for last three years.

DISCLAIMER FOUR
I do not agree with Ben Norris’s claim that post graduate study is a way to avoid the ‘real world’. I just don’t want a ‘proper’ job yet (nor do I want one until I finish my PhD).

DISCLAIMER FIVE
I realise that these views may not have been Ben Norris’s.

TONIGHT/ THIS MORNING (Part Three)
Some poems fit into these categories and some don’t. The open mic section of the evening was of a particularly high standard.

DISCLAIMER SIX
This review is already ridiculously long and if I write about every single performer I will never go to bed and will therefore feed my already horrific insomnia and black coffee addiction. If I don’t write about your poem, it’s not because I didn’t like it.

 SENTIMENTAL PERSONAL NOTE (Part Four)
Tom Crossland, your poem about your dog was beautiful. I like anthropomorphised animals. I also have a dog, and now I miss him terribly.

 TONIGHT/ THIS MORNING (Part Four)

 It’s 01.14. I’ll wrap this up.

SENTIMENTAL PERSONAL NOTE (Part Five)
Writers’ Bloc has been one of the greatest influences in my life, however hyperbolic that sounds. Former and present committee members should be proud of everything that this once small and badly named society has achieved.

HISTORY (Part Two)
Said former bad name was not actually the fault of any past or present Writers’ Bloc committee members. A Creative Writing society existed before Writers’ Bloc’s founding father Sean Colletti took control and thankfully revamped it.

SENTIMENTAL PERSONAL NOTE (Part Five and a Half)
I wish the new Writers’ Bloc committee all the luck for the future. I also threaten you with the promise of my return should you mess things up. You’ve got it good here, and I bet you can make it even better.

DISCLAIMER SEVEN
Seriously, that threat is real. My parents don’t live far from Birmingham.

 TONIGHT/ THIS MORNING (Part Five)
I will end this review with an overall, over-generalised review of all poetry nights:

REASONS YOU SHOULDN’T GO TO POETRY OPEN MIC NIGHTS

1)      You don’t like poetry.
(Seriously, what are you even doing here? Why are you reading this review if you don’t like poetry? You must like it a little bit. Read the next list.)

REASONS YOU SHOULD GO TO POETRY OPEN MIC NIGHTS (Part One)

1) You’ll get in touch with your emotions. Bohdan Piasecki does a wonderful crowd warm-up at the beginning of Hit The Ode in which you exercise your emotions. This is basically what every poetry open mic night does. Sometimes you leave thinking that you might actually have a soul.

 2) You’ll see some incredibly talented people perform. Sometimes you talk to them afterwards and realise that they’re interesting and lovely as well.

 3) Poetry isn’t elitist.

 4) Sometimes they go on for hours so you get to drink more than usual (and on a school night!).

 5) Occasionally, they’ll be a really great headliner and you’ll think, ‘Wow! I would have paid £590453894 to see them at a festival, and that only cost me £5!’

 DISCLAIMER EIGHT

Not all festival tickets cost £590453894.

 DISCLAIMER NINE

 Not all poetry nights cost £5.

 REASONS YOU SHOULD GO TO POETRY OPEN MIC NIGHTS (Part One and a Half)

 6) You might just see the next big thing in poetry in the early stages of their career.

 7) Poetry/ rhyme/ rap/ isn’t (and you aren’t) dead.

 8) Sometimes you’re allowed to review these things; you get free entry and to write two-thousand words that people might actually read.

 9) People actually listen to you at these things.

 10) You love poetry.

TONIGHT/ THIS MORNING (Part Six)

It’s 01.41. Time for one last

SENTIMENTAL PERSONAL NOTE (Part Six)

I have loved Grizzly Pear, and I have loved Writers’ Bloc. To everyone who has listened to my poems and read my reviews: thank you. To all who have made me laugh, cry and feel human: you are wonderful people. This Grizzly Pear was the perfect way to end three years, and I am certain I will feel its absence once I have graduated.

TONIGHT/ THIS MORNING (Part Seven)

It’s 01.44. I’ll hand you over to Oli Clifford, who will be providing you with a review of Dizraeli’s headline set. I’m sure his review will be considerably less ridiculous. 

By Jenna Clake
@jennaclake

Grizzly Pear Ft. Bohdan Piasecki @ Bristol Pear

grizzly pear

I think I might have attended every Writers’ Bloc open mic night since starting university; I’ve probably reviewed about eighty-five percent of them too. When you go a long time without something, it’s quite easy to forget what you’re missing: that old saying: ‘Out of sight, out of mind’ usually isn’t wrong. I feel a little like that about Grizzly Pear: each time the next one rolls around, I’ve usually forgotten that it exists, and I attend, not with reluctance, but with a sense that it all might just be the same again.

Of course, I am generally wrong. Yes, there are a few who unfairly use the stage in the Bristol Pear as a soapbox for their opinions and promptly leave after their turn is over, but, overall, the people who attend and perform at Grizzly Pear reignite my love for poetry. Last night I met people who had never attended before, and saw poems and prose pieces performed by complete strangers, old friends and familiar faces. Grizzly Pear succeeds in creating a sense of community in just a few hours.

It is also easy to forget what a feat Grizzly Pear actually is to pull off. The Writers’ Bloc committee, full-time university students, have to fund, organise and promote the night, and somehow secure a top-class headliner. I have seen Grizzly Pear move from strength-to-strength and through a few rough patches, but if last night was my first night, I would have been utterly impressed. In fact, I still was.

One of the best and simultaneously worst things about compere Ben Norris is that he can’t say ‘no’; if you go to Grizzly Pear, you’re in it for the long haul. As a result, I won’t be providing a play-by-play of the open mic; I’ve had quite enough of 4000 word essays for this month.

Georgia Tindale kicked off the first half with three poems. My favourite was undoubtedly ‘The Medic’s Wife’, a poem about an unsatisfactory marriage, explored through images of a post-mortem. It was disturbing and performed brilliantly. Death seemed to be a popular topic with the performers in the first half: two readers who had travelled from outside the realms of Birmingham shared pieces about attempted suicides. Brenda Read-Brown’s poem about a New York City bus driver and a woman was touching and well-crafted, while Andrew Owens read a piece inspired by a conversation with his friend. His piece was compelling and well-written.

There were several poets who performed for the first time at Grizzly Pear: Louisa Robbin’s poem, intended to be accompanied by music, held its own with a narrative about an unsuccessful relationship wrought in excellent images. Daisy Edwards’s prose piece, ‘My Mother’, was a sentimental look at being the ‘brown cow’ in a family of ‘white mice’; the piece was confidently performed and lovely to hear.

There were also spoken word/ poetry regulars in attendance: Seasick Fist returned to the stage to show that he has been working hard on his craft. The refrain: ‘I want to live in a world where,’ was used to set up a series of internal rhymes, witty puns and a constantly shifting rhythm; it was a hit with the audience.

 Of course, it wouldn’t be Grizzly Pear if things didn’t get a little bizarre. Writers’ Bloc President Charlie Dart read a hilarious poem about his hat becoming more famous than himself. Leaving the hat on the mic stand, Charlie moved to sit on the edge of stage to perform his satire of fame and poetry. Jack Crowe read a poem about a possibly apocalyptic world in which everyone is a fish; his surreal images and deadpan delivery were reminiscent of Rob Auton’s style, and made an entertaining contribution to the evening. The audience was also treated to (and roped into, on some occasions) a play by Ben Jackson and Ali Moore, with narration from Joe Whitehead. There were strippers, literary in-jokes and Writers’ Bloc in-jokes; the duo certainly knows their audience.

Grizzly Pear attendees were also treated unexpectedly to a performance from UK National Story-telling Laureate Katrice Horsley. She gave a captivating, exuberant performance of two poems from a sequence of her work. Seeing her work was privilege.

Finally, attention must be moved onto the evening’s headliner, Bohdan Piasecki. It is unusual to see Bohdan perform in Birmingham; as organiser of the fantastic Hit the Ode and as the West Midlands co-ordinator for Apples and Snakes, Bohdan is usually on the administrative side of things. His performance at Grizzly Pear, then, was not one to miss.

Growing up in Poland informs a lot of Bohdan’s poetry, which is wrought with emotion and beauty consistently. His work is quietly devastating: from poems about his sister, to rap music, to the difficulty of growing up under a decaying Communist rule, Bohdan is able to make his audience laugh and cry within a few minutes.

I must admit that I was a fan of his poetry before Grizzly Pear; I have taken a wander around his little-publicised website and found the ‘George poems’, a series of increasingly surreal poems about a character taken from the tapes Bohdan used to learn English. I was therefore delighted to be able to hear more from this body of work.

Working as a compere has evidently influenced Bohdan’s ability to interact with his audience, as he asked the crowd to chant the Polish word for ‘yes’ (‘tak’), while he performed completely in his mother tongue. This poem highlighted Bohdan’s talent: not only does he write and perform largely in his second language, the poetry is exquisite.

Bohdan ended his set with a personal favourite, ‘Almost Certainly’. I believe strongly in the heresy of the paraphrase, and this intelligently crafted and emotionally devastating poem needs to be heard or read to be truly explained.

Grizzly Pear did it again: it won me over. With a complete committee overhaul in the near future, I hope that this poetry event’s legacy will be continued. Until then, there’s two more for this academic year, with appearances from Katie Bonna and Dizraeli. While I’m sure I’ll be blown away by them, I think they’re going to have to work extremely hard to knock this Grizzly Pear from the top of my list.

By Jenna Clake
@jennaclake

Apples & Snakes: Public Address II @ mac

apples and snakes

The Hexagon Room of the mac provided the setting for a fine evening of poetry by Apples and Snakes, the last night of their ‘Public Address II’ tour.

Local poet Bohdan Piasecki was compere for the evening and was charming and self-effacing throughout. After warming the crowd up he introduced the first poet of the evening, Brighton-based Tom Sissons. It would be fair to say he was the most conventional of the night, with poems that touched on politics, revolution and God. But he delivered a performance that had as much raw honesty as it did clarity and he offered a distinctive take on the issues he touched upon. It was a great start to the night, one that set a marker down for the other performers.

Selina Nwulu was the London representative and followed with just the one poem, a story that juxtaposed her mother’s tale of living in a chaotic civil war-torn Nigeria with that of her comparatively dull Yorkshire upbringing. From the initial description of a hectic scene in Lagos, she went on to combine a heavy political backdrop with her own personal story with intensity, as her mother’s fight for life also became hers.

Representing the North-East was Christopher Stewart, who cut an unusual figure on stage in his overcoat and mutton chops.  He involved one unfortunate audience member in his discussion of his relationship with women and had an odd obsession with the moon, about which he’d apparently written fifty poems. When you felt like you were following his train of thought, he threw you off with surreal lines and obscure tangents that made the ideas you could totally grasp all the more worthwhile. Awkward, off-beat and probably the funniest performance of the night, he is clearly an enigma wrapped in an enigma wrapped in a full English.

After a short break came local poet Lorna Meehan, who got a suitably enthusiastic welcome from the home crowd. She performed poems inspired by and dedicated to Florence and The Machine and Michael Buble respectively. The latter didn’t quite convince me as to his charms, but was funny nonetheless. Her best however were ‘Rebel Heart’, a poem that combined the story of her and a friend, one who found love and the other turned to heroin, and ‘Waves’, a story of adolescent love on a holiday to Newquay.

The final poet, and probably the best of the night, was Jack Dean. His piece ‘Rain’ felt the most complete of the night, and was also probably the most varied. It centred on the flooding in the South-West and included a rap, a visit to his psychiatrist, and a list of anti-depressants he admitted he’d found on Wikipedia. He also had the audience singing ‘Three Little Birds’ before twisting it into something darker. However, the piece was ultimately about acceptance, and provided an excellent conclusion to the evening. The night was an entertaining, diverse and perfectly paced evening showcasing five very distinctive poets from across the country that not only affirm the Midlands’ but the nation’s spoken-word credentials.

by Daniel Moroney

@DanielMoroney

UoB Book to the Future and Writers’ Bloc present: UniSlam!

1243952_10151629833181638_1322662633_oAs part of Book To The Future, the University of Birmingham’s first ever literature festival, Writers’ Bloc are proud to present UniSlam!, the UK’s first ever national inter-university poetry slam championships.

Watch the best student poets, including a team from UoB, battle it out over 3 rounds, culminating with a grand final in the 420-seat Elgar Concert Hall, for the coveted title of UniSlam! Champions.

The teams will be judged by professional poets Luke Kennard, Helen Monks, Martin Glynn and Matt Windle, and hosted by Bohdan Piasecki.

Come and join us for this FREE poetry extravaganza. All are welcome – bring your friends, family and pets for what is certain to be a day/night to remember!

SUNDAY 27th OCTOBER 2013

TIME: Heats 2–3.30 pm. Semi-Final 4.30pm-6pm.
Final 7pm-9:30pm

LOCATION: Heats in Lecture Rooms 1, 2 and 3, Arts Building
Semi-final and final in Elgar Concert Hall, Bramall Music Building

Bramall-homepage-v2For more information on the whole festival, visit – http://www.birmingham.ac.uk/university/colleges/artslaw/events/bttf/index.aspx

Hit the Ode (part 2)

Hit the Ode, a monthly spoken word event organised by West Midland’s Apples and Snakes, returned last Thursday to prove that this is an event going from strength to strength. This month’s collection of open mic and featured poets consistently bowled the audience over with their humour, lyricism and raw emotion. The Victoria provided a resplendent setting; the intimate nature and dimly-lit room providing an evocative background for words that were even more powerful.

For those who are now regulars, Bohdan Piasecki is as much a celebrity as the poets he introduces. As a compere and poet himself, his obvious passion for the spoken word excites even the most cynical of audience members. The room was the most filled it’s been yet – an apt reflection of the growing popularity of Birmingham’s spoken word scene.

Advertised as ‘an eclectic mix of styles, voices and languages’, the night fulfilled just that. As the name suggests, open mics in any setting are a gamble. Apart from one crude and mediocre poet overcome by misogynism, however, the poets that performed were as worthy of the stage as those paid to be there. ‘Carys Matic’, an English teacher based in South Korea, humorously recited a poem about British stereotypes she’s often been expected to play up to on her travels. Ben Norris, a Birmingham-based student, excellently explored the connections one experiences with lovers and Grandparents alike, providing a humbling contrast to the more raucous poetry of the evening.

The first featured poet was Paul Murphy. An established resident of Birmingham, he is most-recognised as lead singer and punk poet of the band The Destroyers. Sharing his good and bad experiences of life with rhythmic rhyme, his words flowed instinctively. As was often the case throughout the evening, the audience were continually lulled in with humorous anecdotes and then left reeling at the sagacious and sombre moments.

Vanessa Kisuule, a multiple slam winning poet from Bristol, was the next featured poet. Speaking to her after the event she said that shy writers should not be deterred from the spoken word scene, as poets often use performance to hide the fact they aren’t prolific writers. From her recital, however, it was clear that Kisuule does not fall into this category. Her beautifully crafted metaphors were brought alive by her performance. With poems such as Little Red Bow, her honest and humbling account of a vulnerable friend, and Sandwich, a comic tale of OCD and relationships, the audience were moved from laughter to tears and back again.

The final highlight of the evening was the performance of New York City poetry circuit veterans, Jon Sands and Ken Arkind. Reciting their work alternately, the poets covered topics from a brother’s marriage to his male partner, to the ramblings of a woman on a New York subway platform. They captivated with beat, music, and poetry that obviously was anything but superficial. Possibly the best Hit the Ode yet, the bar has definitely been raised. There is no doubt that as talent continues to emerge, Birmingham has not seen the last of nights like this.

The next Hit the Ode is on Thursday 29th March at 7.30pm.

Words by Elisha Owen

Related links:
Hit the Ode @ the Victoria (part 1)
Tell Me on a Sunday (part 1)
The Poets’ Place

Hit the Ode @ the Victoria (part 1)

Hit the Ode is a monthly spoken word poetry night at the Victoria, a pub tucked away just around the corner from New Street station. Consistently, this event presented by Apples and Snakes  proves to be moving, funny and an all round wonderful night. The performance poetry showcased at Hit the Ode really demands that people drop any school-yard preconceptions of poetry being dry or portentous. The evening’s fast paced series of open mic poets and featured acts is truly electrifying, with hilarious moments followed by startling pathos, contrasting flippantness and sentiment. All this combines to create a genuinely communal atmosphere in the room, as everyone experiences the emotional highs and lows of the poets’ words.

The upstairs bar at the Victoria is a dimly lit, intimate affair. There were perhaps 50 people crammed into the room, some standing or sitting around the walls due to a lack of chairs, whilst others listened in from the hallway. Bohdan Piasecki, a performance poet in his own right, was the compare for the evening, relaxing everybody with his wry humour and Polish accent. There was a great moment when he asked the audience to audibly convey ‘lust,’ and was met by three seconds of absolute silence…then laughter.

The open mic poets mostly read just one or two poems, moving the evening along at a brisk pace. One would expect the constant shifts in tone to be jarring, but the eclectic styles were actually welcome because the subject matter of some poems was particularly weighty – without some light relief the night could have been particularly intense and draining. For example, featured poet and Birmingham’s Poet Laureate Jan Watts read her new holocaust memorial poem Mirrors, a meditation on a passage from Anne Frank’s diary. It was beautiful and poignant, exploring how the mirror ‘holds a memory’ and questioning whether people have learned from history; ‘When did we last look in the mirror?’ Next, it was exciting to have a complete shift in gear to the young open mic poet Jess Green. She crystallised exactly what can be so thrilling about performance poetry with her breakup rant being alternately funny, cynical and sad. It was perhaps more akin to watching an actor’s piece or a soliloquy in a play.

The open mic poets were consistently impressive. Matt Windle, a young boxer, performed a snappy, rhythmic and incisive verse. Qasim Shah had a beautiful lilting delivery which disguised his dark sinister imagery (‘a field of lacerated veils,’) and Chris Hope was hilarious with his countless accents and satirical sonnets on the X-factor, McDonald’s and Argos. Featured poet Sue Brown had a graceful stage presence and her poems If You Were a Word and From Beorma to Birmingham used repetition to hypnotically beautiful effect.
It was another featured poet, Dani Orviz from Spain who closed the first half with an uplifting and visually stunning performance, with most of his poetry written in his native Spanish. In the hands of a lesser performer the language could have alienated most of the room, but Orviz ran animations and subtitles through a projector so the Spanish language became less of a barrier and seemed to be just yet another ingredient drawing us into his eccentric world. Spanish lends itself well to spoken poetry, its rhythmic polysyllables and magnetic rhymes make it a joy to listen to, especially alongside his beautiful animations of flickering cave paintings.

Final featured poet Luke Wright closed the evening with charm and panache. Initially, he had appeared to be a bouncer for the Victoria as he was stood by the door in his three piece suit, looking like Plan B. However, once on stage he had an easy going charisma and some brilliantly funny, affecting performance poetry up his sleeve. The Paunch!, an ode to the pot belly, was typical of his style, wittily irreverent throughout then closing in sharp, angry fashion ‘we line their pockets with our self-disgust.’

What makes Hit the Ode so vital is the genuinely sincere sense of goodwill towards the poets and communal atmosphere amongst the audience, something surprisingly rare to find even at music or comedy gigs. The subtle difference between politeness and empathy amongst strangers is outdone by the pure visceral emotional weight of the excellent poetry, making each of these nights unmissable.

The next Hit the Ode is on the 23rd of February.

Words by James Grady