The Finders of London

So I didn’t make it to the after-party down on the Thames beach, but I did make it to Ev for the launch of Anna Robinson’s first full collection.  It was a lovely “do”: loads of people, a beautiful reading, a fantastic venue.  And the book is really wonderful, rooted and mystical, specific to London (particularly Lambeth) but through that, broadening out to the world.

I caught up with some people I haven’t seen for ages.  I sat on a chair that was a sculpture of a hand – that was very disconcerting (but surprisingly comfortable).  And then I walked around in circles to Southwark tube, in the pinky-orangey grimy grey sunset.  The Jubyline swept me past sidings, buddleia, tower blocks, motorway….at Stratford I stared out over the building site at the vast Westfield shopping centre to be….

….Anna’s book has given me fresh eyes.  Some of what her poems look at is how the city is always changing, and ways, words, places that people remember just fall out of it.  Unless you deliberately choose to remember, that is.  As The Finders of London does.

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