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One might assume the deaths of his mother and close friends would produce a bitterness in his poetry, leaving an acidic yet cloying taste in our mouths after each metaphor
Some countries have laws against this inhumane practice, which just worsens existing trauma. Why don’t we, asks Guardian columnist Rhiannon Lucy Cosslett
But what’s your song about? I don’t know. * You have become a passionate collector since we bought you the backpack. You have always kept a handful of objects in rotation, items you have taken a particular shine to, that have interested you more deeply than others. But the arrival of the backpack has provided fresh impetus, a reason to collect things as much as a place to put them. So it is no longer the objects themselves that are of interest to you, but the novel fact of your possessing them, your having them to hand, within your remit. These are your belongings and you are playing at m...