MARIA DUARTE, JAMES WALSH and ANDY HEDGECOCK review The Invite, My Father’s Island, Nirvanna: the Band, the Show, the Movie, and Oh My Goodness!
807.
Tim Key
“Scratch my back.”
“Twenty quid.”
I frowned like anything.
Twenty quid sounded so goddamn expensive.
That was what bugged me.
“Twenty quid” he said again.
I arched my back in the hope of catching my shoulder-blade against the coarse fibres of my Arran.
Anything to gain some relief without paying through the nose.
“Could you scratch it for any less than twenty quid, Malc?” I asked.
Malc smiled his toothy old grin.
I felt for my wallet in my handbag.
And I eyed Malc’s long nails.
And I gritted my teeth because it all itched so goddamn much.
ALAN MORRISON recommends a consummate, heart-warming collection about a working-class upbringing in the industrial north-east
ANDY CROFT welcomes the publication of an anthology of recent poems published by the Morning Star, and hopes it becomes an annual event
RUTH AYLETT reviews two collections of outright political poetry


