Leicester, Sunday night, audience of five, no dog shocker.

Why do it? Thirteen poets ranging from good to great, nice venue, usual lines of publicity, lots of people saying they’ll come. Audience of five on the night. A good five, but five nonetheless. I got my suit on, got my hopes up. I dragged myself out of the house, having woken up about five in the morning (a worrying trend) and thought positive. People will come. Truth was it was bloody freezing out, new venue, new night and Sunday at that. Everybody was nice. Poetry was good. But it’s hard to be all yeah-hoogragh about gigs sometimes when you don’t feel like you’re getting anywhere with it. Maybe I’m getting poetry-d out. I’m glad the audience enjoyed it.