In early spring a book arrived that I had been eagerly anticipating. Atomic Masquerade by Clara Etherin did not disappoint. Witty, exuberant, layered and innovative, this visual poetry collection is full of delights, from brooding palimpsest portrayals of Dracula and Frankenstein to the vivid pair of asemic sonnets “Heaven & Hell” – written in collaboration with AI – with which the book concludes.
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The constrained poetry of sport
My mother taught me to swim before I could walk. This was sensible. We had a swimming pool in the garden, unfenced of course, a sun-glittered temptation to a small child crawling over spiky grass on a hot day.
Swimming, tennis, netball, rowing, squash… sport has always been a part of my life. It taught me to play by the rules, absorb the pressures of competition, survive the grim lessons of humiliation and defeat. Through practice and repetition I gradually developed muscle memory, so that movement and coordination became ever more instinctive. I learned to relish the sheer joy of cleaving through water like a dolphin, the exhilaration of a hard-fought squash match, the triumphant exhaustion of pushing my body to its limits.
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