A sort-of-review of Marie Marshall’s T.S.Eliot Prize nominated ‘I am not a fish’

You’ll never believe me…I was waiting to Skype God. You can imagine the anxiety! I mean…the Almighty, the Alpha & the Omega, Tetragrammaton—YHWH. It was buffering his end, ringing out. There was a lot of eeking & blare. The postman dropped his delivery. I was gripped on what God was going to look like. I [...]

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Idleness, a dog’s lot

The Rock (not the muscle-headed Hollywood Rock who doesn’t perform his own stunts but looks hard like he does) in T.S. Eliot’s play explains, The lot of man is ceaseless labour,Or ceaseless idleness, which is still harder,Or irregular labour, which is not pleasant. Now assuming idle here isn’t a play on idol—which, with a lit-crit [...]

The Brext Land

ITV’s Good Morning Britain's backdrop-countdown to Brexit is a dramatic reminder of what is to come. However, until March 29th we are all of us just speculating, guided by a homunculi Tiresias that lives in ours and others' ears, themselves just speculating off of the fragments of other speculators spoon fed 24hour news straight out [...]

Lynne Burnett (Chapbook Confessions #6)

After a hiatus due to my returning to England, here is Lynne Burnett’s confession & a blinding return it is for Underfoot.

If you are interested in submitting your confession, see our guidelines and get in touch.

Underfoot Poetry

Chapbook Confessions is a series in which poets discuss, at length, the writing of their most recent collection of poems, in whatever way they desire. For more information on the series, go here.

Below, Lynne Burnett writes on her 2018 collection,Irresistible (Finishing Line Press).


41tczvccz0l._sx322_bo1,204,203,200_First, I must confess I never intentionally set out to write a chapbook—both in the sense of writing poems specific to a theme or project, and in manuscript size. I always thought I’d write a “proper” book and as the years passed and the number of poems written and eventually published grew, that it would certainly be bigger than chapbook sized! Especially since I was late coming to the party, having put writing aside for twenty years to raise a family and then a further twenty to tease out the fruits of that elongated pause. I learned though that one hand must…

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There’s no need to be a poet (time is forgotten)

This poem from the Yoon Yong series is probably a personal anxiety of my own showing through the tissue paper of personality. I think all poets (I cannot speak for translators) have some such concern as this in their transmogrification of reality & experience into the poetic. The solution: not apologizing for seeing, trying, relying & [...]

Last images

During my last few weeks in Korea, I made one final push to photograph the environment I called home for so long. Despite my tone of voice of late, I am making valiant efforts to reorient myself, this mostly involves going to the pub, as well as quaffing a few foaming ales, my reorientation includes [...]