I don't know one end of a screwdriver from the other. But, like any old punk rocker worth his or her salt, I've adhered staunchly for many years to the principles of DIY. I'm my own record company, book publisher, gig organiser, publicist - you name it.

So when I say that my seventh book of poems, UK Gin Dependence Party And Other Peculiarities is published this week, what I mean is this.

Tomorrow, a pallet containing 2,000 copies will arrive at our front door. Some will join the books and CDs already in the attic, some will be stacked under the stairs, some will go under the table or on top of the cupboard in my office, teetering like Lenin's statue in Kiev the other day - shame! - though hopefully not sharing its fate.