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All too often, I’m the first to make a joke about it. To quip that being a poet’s an easy life, that it’s largely a matter of lazing about watching the world go by and waiting for inspiration, that it…

I love Blackpool. I really do. Last Thursday I headed up there in the van – just as I did last year – to make my way to Rebellion Festival, which takes over the Winter Gardens for a four day…

That’d be the traditional way of describing my month. Fair to middling. An archetypal British expression to downplay your excitement at how things are going, draw as little attention to yourself as possible, and do all you can not to…

The poor are a foreign country. It’s a comforting thought. Or at least, I guess it must be, because the Iain Duncan Smiths and the Richard Littlejohns and the Melanie Phillips of this world spend a lot of time banging…

At last, it’s done. The autobiography I’ve been working on for the past couple of years was handed over to the printers just before the end of June. You might think that after all that time there’d be no need…

Life recently has been a little like an episode of Blue Peter. Not because I’ve been cutting things up with round-ended scissors, not because I’ve been using old Fairy Liquid bottles – with the branding carefully taped over so as…

Life’s a funny old game. A few years ago I found myself sitting down for a pint with Steve Ignorant, front man of punk legends Crass, and wondering how to answer his suggestion that I worked with him on writing…

Dear IDS, things can’t be easy right now. But then, when were they ever? You’ve spent your whole life grafting away, and what have you got to show for it? Nothing. You’ve been the nearly man so often, and that’s…

I know it probably seems as if everything’s gone quiet here, as if there’s been nothing but virtual tumbleweed blowing across this little corner of cyber-world. And I’m very aware that in a world of 24/7 social media and endless…

I’ve a gig in Bristol on March 1st – do come along if you live nearby – and I’m looking forward to it immensely. It’s a little different from your average poetry night. Yes, I get to do the usual,…

So after a wee bit of a fit of can’t-be-arsed earlier in the month, I’ve now hit the ground running. Or at least stumbling in the right direction. Emails fired off to poetry nights and festivals, begging for gigs throughout…