David Russamano Launches his first Poetry Collection!

Come along and enjoy poems and drinks in the cellar venue of the historic Flying Horse pub – apparently, the last on Oxford Street, on Saturday May 20th! David Russamano, who has graced Seething Writers meet ups on a number of occasions, launches his first chapbook, (Reasons for) Moving, and we would love you to come and join us to celebrate!

(Reasons for) Moving is published by Structo publishers (read what they say about it here), the wonderful team who publish the Structo literary magazine, which, if you haven’t read it, is really a beautifully produced journal of writing worth seeking out.

What people have said about (Reasons for) Moving:

This is an impressive and enjoyable collection of poems. Russomano deserves readers.

— Wendy Cope

Russomano is an intriguing new poet I expect big things from, based on the poems here, which seem intelligently poised between American and British poetic stances. At once exotic, historical, melancholy, and well-made, these elegant, thoughtful poems of place and change have unexpected outcomes – slipping off into new, submerged possibilities, like the house on the frozen lake, that is not, well, really all that solid. An impressive debut.

— Todd Swift

Russomano combines a serious wanderlust and wonderful evocations of place, with a careful consideration of the value of home. Perfect ingredients for the pull and push of poetry, these poems beautifully dovetail diction with structure. A true delight to the eye and the heart.

— Lucy Furlong

David Russomano’s (Reasons for) Moving records a widely travelled life. ‘Writing Home from Quepos’, ‘After the Revolution: Kathmandu, 2006’, ‘Ankara’, and other vividly compelling poems about distant places interweave with poems located closer to home, such as ‘What Begins and Ends with Water’, the delightful and mordant ‘Saint John’s’, or the chilling ‘Cutting Corners’, about a mall built on the toxic site of a former brake pad factory. Beautifully evoked, this varied and memorable collection only gets better and better with each rereading.

— Ann Fisher-Wirth

Congratulations to Dave! To celebrate he is launching his chapbook  in Central London, at a FREE event in the cosy environs of the cellar bar of The Flying Horse, on the corner of Oxford Street and Tottenham Court Road. More info here.

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Surbiton Village Fete

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Fated to be great

“Bye!” “ What a lovely day it’s been” “Good to see you!”  “Catch up soon…”

We ambled our way through happy crowds of people, still enjoying the food, music, cider and late afternoon sunshine, towards the exit, only to be stopped by a cheerful lady holding a plate of scones: “25 pence each!” she said.

jamming
jamming

“Pick two” I said to the nipper, “but don’t touch them, your hands are too grubby.” He put down his stick with the balloon tied to the end and carefully considered them for a moment; picked one plain and one fruit and they were popped into a little blue and white stripey paper bag.

“Now  we will need jam for these…” and the woman pointed me in the direction of the WI tent, about four yards from where we were standing, and gave me a leaflet in case I was interested in joining : “By the way, have you seen the bee man? I wonder if he’s still there. You must have a look- you can see the Queen bee!” She checked and he was indeed still round the corner from where we were standing. We promised to see the bee man after acquiring jam for our scones.

We walked into the shade of the tent and eyed up the goodies…rows of jams in an assortment of jars, all stickered with tempting labels including  Toffee-apple , Caramelised Strawberry and…  Plum and Vanilla, which the nipper chose to take home with us.

buzzin'
buzzin’

And then a trip around the corner, through the trees, to see the bee man with his glass frame of busy bees, where we tried and failed to spot the Queen, but we did have a drone pointed out to us.

“Hello! I thought you’d gone!” “Hello – yes so did we – but we’re still here!”

And so the day continued. We had once again been caught happily in the whirly web of Seething.

 

 

Lucy Furlong

www.lucyfurlong.com