I often wonder whether the things I think about are really so strange, niche and eccentric – and the answer, which is a resounding yes, is answered in places like USP where many students look at you in mild amusement when you tell them you write poems for a living. Thankfully, this was not the case this evening. I brought along my (much diminished) collection of zines that I’ve gathered since leaving the UK and we spent nearly three hours cutting shit up, to make a mini-zine of our poems.
