I just learnt of the passing of my favourite poet, Lucie Brock-Broido, who died yesterday aged 61. Her work showed me how language could be twisted, melded, forced & forged into something new & beautiful & shining. My heart is a little bit broken.
Here is an interview she gave about Emily Dickinson.
Here is one of my favourite poems, which John Burnside introduced me to, just as I started to take my writing seriously.
