#ask me about the scene i cut in which adrian receives his letter from the montrose magpies

[limerenze]

the last time - adrian pucey

[Adrian Pucey x Fem!Reader]

masterlist

Summary; adrian and y/n are stuck in a cycle that cannot be ended

Word Count; 3.6k

A/N; okay. at what point do the amount of taylor song fics become too much? also i was stuck on this for so long then i got covid and finished it <3 <3 <3 

i wrote on my last fic that my new year resolution was not to write as many song fics and i’ve already broken that so the next fic WONT be a song fic i promise.

and i have to dedicate this to my absolute muse- without her this fic would’ve never seen the light of day, @loverssfevers i love u

Warnings; angst, post hogwarts

Dates Written; January 2nd - January 10th, 2022

Part of her hoped he would be next to her when she woke up. And that part was much bigger than she was willing to admit.

Every time he left, every day he was gone- every morning she woke up alone, the faith she had that he would return got less and less.

And just when that faith was ready to burn out, just when she was ready to put her foot down and put an end to all the sorrow. There he was.

It was as if Adrian knew that if he was gone just one more day, he would lose her. And so he came back. It was as if he always knew.

Y/N didn’t know how he always knew. It wasn’t as if she could tell him, even if she wanted to, she couldn’t. They didn’t speak when he was away. It wasn’t something either of them ever brought up, they just didn’t. 

Y/N and Adrian were in the seventh year when the quidditch scouts had come to Hogwarts. Madam Hooch hadn’t given the house teams much notice. One day it was to be a normal game against Hufflepuff and the next it was the biggest, most important game of Adrian’s quidditch career.

Adrian had gone absolutely ballistic with only just under two weeks to prepare for the game. 

Graham Montague was their captain that year. The two were quite good mates, but from the moment Madam Hooch had told them about the scouts to the moment the match was over- Adrian loathed him.

He wasn’t taking it seriously, was Adrian the only one who cared?

The Slytherin team was a joke that year.

Himself, Montague, Warrington, Bletchly, Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle?

It was their first year without Flint. And it was a disaster.

Adrian hadn’t played Quidditch on the house team in two years at that point. He was a little rusty, but during those two weeks, it seemed he was the only one on the team with a brain.

Cassius and Graham had no interest in going into professional quidditch after Hogwarts. Malfoy and his two chums were never ones to overtly stress over their matches. The only time Draco cared whether they won or lost was when they played against Gryffindor. How they even made the team was beyond Adrian. 

It wasn’t that Adrian thought they were bad players, not at all. Draco was an ace seeker, when he wanted to be. Adrian even considered begging Malfoy to put his all into their match so they would win, but decided his pride was worth more. Adrian was never particularly fond of the blonde boy.

However, Miles agreed with Adrian, Miles wanted to make a good impression, the two boys just wanted a chance. They were willing to work for it, but that would mean nothing if their teammates wouldn’t do the same.

Y/N tried everything to get Adrian to loosen up during those two weeks. She would tell him how bad stress is for the body, and how all he can do is play his best. 

She thought it was helping, until one day- just days before the match, Adrian’s patience broke and he shouted at her in the great hall.

“Do you ever stop talking? No! really, every time you’re around it’s like I can’t hear myself think!” he snapped, his eyes wide and his- normally neat, hair was poking up in all different directions. “Just go!”

Y/N’s eyes were immediately glossy as everyone in a 15-foot perimeter stopped what they were doing and looked over at the two. She stayed in her spot next to him, just long enough to search for any sign of guilt or regret in Adrian’s eyes.

When she saw none, she got up to leave the great hall with her sight trained to the ground.

To make it worse, just as she was about to make her clean getaway from the hall of humiliation- she crashed into Draco Malfoy. “Watch where you’re going, Y/L/N!”

And when she looked up at him to apologize, even his eyes softened with regret when he saw her state. 

Y/N didn’t like to think about that day. But still, as she sat alone in her flat, she couldn’t help it.

It had gotten so bad, that if it weren’t for the Montrose Magpies game schedule she had, she wouldn’t even know where Adrian was.

The worst was when she would check it, just out of sheer curiosity- only to find out they didn’t even have a game that day. And she was left to her imagination to think about what he was up to.

Adrian didn’t talk to her after that day in the great hall, not until after the match.

No matter how much his friends pestered him to, even Malfoy. And Draco was never one to poke his head into other peoples personal business. Adrian would just scowl at him until he left him alone.

She felt bad for bothering Adrian during the most stressful time for him. Her friends comforted her when she busted into her common room with splotchy tear marks on her cheeks, then she had to talk them out of hexing Adrian.

She didn’t try and speak to him after that, and he didn’t try to speak to her.

He felt bad, of course he did. But he didn’t have time to feel bad. When he wasn’t in class or eating or sleeping- he was on the quidditch pitch. And when the quidditch pitch wasn’t available, he was in the library working on plays.

He didn’t realize the impact his words and actions- or lack thereof, had on his sweet girl. Not until he was in uniform, flying out into the pitch and his eyes darting around the stands.

Adrian scanned every face in attendance, biting back a nervous smile when he saw a group of grown men he’d never seen before sitting together- noting that they must’ve been the scouts.

His smile was long gone once he realized she didn’t come. 

Y/N was sitting in on her bed, the curtains were drawn open and her dormmates all sat on their respective beds as well. She had a novel open in front of her but it was forgotten as they practised their Patronus charms in the middle of their room.

It was her friends who assured her she didn’t need to feel guilty about missing Adrian’s match, especially after he made no attempt to apologize. 

And that evening Adrian felt he had never played worse.

He was overtly aware that there were people in the stands, judging his every move. Adrian was an excellent chaser- he knew that. But his hands were sweaty and were slipping all along the handle of his broomstick.

He should’ve worn gloves.

He hurled a quaffle towards the rings- and although it made it past the Hufflepuff keeper, a sharp pain shot through his body as his muscles strained near his right-side ribcage.

He should’ve stretched more.

To everyone watching, Adrian was flying as swiftly and graciously as always. But to Adrian, it was as if he had forgotten everything he knew about it. He felt uncoordinated and as if it was his first time mounting one.

And in the end, they lost. It was a narrow loss, Hufflepuff was a tough team- everyone knew it. But that didn’t make Adrian feel any better.

“You played brilliantly, mate” Graham had said to him in the locker room after the match. His hand smacking down on his shoulder, he wore a sorry looking expression.

“Thanks, Cap” Adrian tried to smile, but anyone could see he was far from happy. “You guys all did too” He paused, to look at his teammates, they all played sad expressions. “I’m sorry for all of this, I thought we had a shot.”

“We did, mate. Hufflepuff is just-” Cassius began,

“-Wicked” Crabbe finished. “They’re on a streak, they weren’t about to let us break that.” 

The rest of the boys nodded along and one by one- trickled out of the locker room, leaving Adrian alone.

Y/N was still sat on her bed, that much hadn’t changed. The novel was still sitting open and unread in front of her, that hadn’t changed either.

What had changed, is that her friends had left her alone in the room. The laughter and the joy they provided her with, the laughter and joy that had been doing such a good job of distracting her- was replaced with complete and utter silence.

It was almost deafening.

The light in the sky had gone and only darkness was left. She didn’t know how long she had sat there.

Surely she sat through the entirety of the quidditch match, and depending on the time- the entirety of dinner as well.

She wouldn't have been able to keep anything she ate down anyways.

A knock was what finally snapped her out of her daze, she hadn’t even called for whoever was on the other side to come in before the knob turned and the door was pushed open.

It was a girl in her house a few years below her. “Y/N?”

“Hm?” her eyes darted over to her and back to staring blankly.

“There’s um-” she stopped, looking down the stairs into the common room- “There’s a Slytherin boy outside the common room, he’s asked me to come up and fetch you?”

She didn’t say anything at first, and the younger girl was beginning to feel nervous. Maybe she should’ve just told the boy that she wasn’t there. “I can get rid of him, if you’d like?” 

Y/N was going to laugh, but she just thanked the girl and said she would be down in a minute. 

Her bare feet were cold on the stone steps. She probably should’ve put her shoes on, or slippers. She said hello to a few of her housemates who were lounging on the sofas and chairs with light music playing in the background. 

She pushed the door of the common room open to reveal Miles Bletchley. The Slytherin keeper in all his glory. Definitely not who she was expecting. 

He stood with his back leaning against the wall. His legs were straight out in front of him and crossed at the ankles. He was lucky the hallway was empty, or else he would be a tripping hazard. She knew he didn’t care though.

His eyes were glued to the space on the floor in front of him and his fluffy light brown hair was split down the middle and hanging over his forehead. 

“Hey, Milo,” she said in a small voice, leaning against the wall opposite of him- he looked up at her and smiled. The two had never really spoken before Adrian and Y/N started dating. 

To be completely honest, she had never liked Miles all too much. He was rather mean- possibly the meanest boy in their year. 

But after beginning to date Adrian, they had grown to be quite fond of each other.

Y/N was worried their own personal dynamics would clash with each other’s friends- but alas, they didn’t. Y/N loved Adrian’s friends, and Adrian loved her’s.

“Hi, Y/N/N” Miles looked relieved to see her, as if he didn’t expect her to actually come down.

And as if Y/N hadn’t done it enough on her own- she and Miles sat in silence for a few moments. It was a comfortable silence and Y/N knew- just on the fact that Miles was with her, and not celebrating- that their match against Hufflepuff had not gone according to plan.

“It didn’t go too swell, huh?” she asked hesitantly. She knew Miles was the only other player on the team who was taking the match that the scouts would see seriously. So she didn’t want to hit a nerve.

Miles just shrugged and hung his head. “We lost. It wasn’t a terrible loss- the boys were on top of it. Huffs were just a right sight better” 

“How is he?” 

“He’s gutted. Which is expected” She nodded along as Miles spoke. “He’s also stupid and bloody-minded” 

“What d’you mean” Y/N was beginning to get cold, and she was abundantly aware of the absence of carpet in the hallways. It was like the cold stone was absorbing all the heat from her body. She brought her hands up to cross and try to retain the warmth she had left.

“He won’t come apologize on his own, Y/N/N. He’s sorry, he knows it, I know it- the whole bloody dungeons know it.”

“If he was sorry, he’d be here on his own accord. He shouldn’t need his pal to track me down and tell me for him”

“You were in your dorm, I hardly tracked you down” Miles tried to lighten the mood. But Y/N was cold and annoyed. “He goes to the Boathouse to be alone. But you already knew that?”

Y/N stayed quiet, but she looked back up at the boy in front of her. “If you decide to go check it out, and you happen to see him?” Miles paused, moving to remove his Slytherin robes. He stood with just his black slacks and a black turtleneck, holding his robes open for Y/N to fall into. 

She ended up succumbing to the temperature and turned her back to Miles, sliding her arms into the boy’s robe and facing him with a smile. “Go ahead and give him this for me, eh? I’ll need it for class tomorrow”

After shooting her a quick wink, Miles bowed his head and walked away. 

And that was how Y/N ended up at the Boathouse, sitting next to Adrian- comforting him. Their legs were dangling over the edge of the doc- her head on his shoulder

Over a year later and nothing had changed.

Y/N stood to her feet from her spot on the sofa. She stood so she could walk to the kitchen to rinse her wine glass and turn in for the night. She had bought a bottle of red wine- which she intended to share with Adrian. But as the night drew on and he hadn’t shown up, she popped it open alone.

Her hands trembled slightly as she leaned over the stainless steel sink, she swirled water in the base of the glass gently and tipped it over, watching it fall to the middle and down the drain.

After all the silence she had been listening to that night, the pounding on the front door from down the hall made her ears ring.

And as she heard Adrian’s shouting and banging, she longed for the stillness her flat had once held. 

Part of her wished she had the stomach to leave him in the hallway. And that part was much smaller than she was willing to admit.

She wished she could ignore his pleas, until his knuckles were raw and he couldn’t bear to hit the door even one more time. Until her neighbours would wake up and go to the hall to shout at him. 

But she didn’t, and she couldn’t.

And so the chain of the lock jingled between her polished fingernails as she slid it off. She twisted the lock open and pulled the heavy door- to reveal Adrian Pucey.

Adrian Pucey. Chaser for the Montrose Magpies. Y/N’s boyfriend of over two years.

But ever since he donned the black and white robes, he never seemed to care that he was the ladder anymore. Quidditch was all that mattered, and Y/N didn’t know how much longer she could come second to it anymore. 

He didn’t move from his place on the floor. She couldn’t say how long she allowed herself to leave him outside, but it was long enough for him to sink to his knees.

“I wanted to surprise you, I tried to apparate into the bedroom but,” Adrian began to trail off. “It didn't let me, so I settled for the hallway”

‘It wouldn't have been much of a surprise considering I was expecting you. Waiting for you.’ she wanted to shoot back in his face. But she couldn’t, and she settled for: “The flat is full of protection charms, remember? You were there when Terry and I put ‘em up” 

Y/N made no moves to allow him in. And he made no moves to get past her and into the flat.

His mouth formed an ‘o’ as he remembered that afternoon. He couldn’t help them, they were always worlds better at charms than him anyway.

“I’m sorry, love” he hung his head, but Y/N wasn’t having any of it.

“Are you?” She snapped back at him. His ears perked up and his eyes flicked up at her, his head staying hung. “Are you sorry, Adrian? Because you do this over and over again. You show up here and you tell me you’re sorry but nothing ever changes!” 

She would not be shouting like this had she not had three glasses of that wine. She would not be unveiling all the feelings she’s had the last year so freely for him to see. But she couldn’t help it.

She knew she would always let him in, she would allow him to break her heart over and over again if she didn’t put a stop to it now. She had to do it now, otherwise, she was afraid she never would.

His eyes were glassy below her, as she spoke his head began to shake. And the more she talked, the faster it shook. As if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “No,” he gasped out. “No, no, no, baby. No, you’ve got it all wrong”

“I can't keep believing you, Adrian.” Y/N sniffled. And she prayed that no one would come out into the hallway. “Not when there’s nothing to show for”

“There’s us to show for!” Adrian pleaded, finally standing from his place on the floor to his feet. “Isn’t that enough? That should be enough!”

Adrian moved to grab her by her shoulders, gently. And he began to take in her appearance.

The tender skin under her eyes looked raw. As if she had been rubbing them all night. But still, Adrian could see dried tears. The ones Y/N had been so desperate to get rid of. The innermost part of her lips were stained a deep purple-red.

“Have you been drinking?”

She scoffed at him. Rolling her eyes and turning her back.

Disregarding his comment, she continued. “It’s not enough. I can't believe you think it would be enough”

She didn’t know if she could say everything she needed to say while looking at him in the eyes. And so she stared ahead. She stared at herself in the mirror. Y/N could see the reflection of him standing behind her but her eyes stayed on herself.

“What ‘us’, Adrian? There’s no ‘us’. There’s just me, Me always alone, always waiting around. There’s me putting everything I have into this relationship and never getting anything back. Then there’s you. You leaving and returning whenever it’s convenient for you. You coming back and telling me you’re sorry and never meaning it. There’s you never changing.”

Adrian just wanted her to look at him. Everything always felt better when he could look into her eyes. They were comforting and familiar, and he’s gone through so much change that all he wanted was Y/N. She was the only constant in his life, and he needed her. He relied on her.

Adrian didn’t understand that that was the root of all their problems. Because Y/N couldn’t remember the last time she felt she could rely on Adrian. It wasn’t in his vocabulary.

“It’s like” she stopped, reaching up to wipe away the tears that were falling once again, but once one was gone another one would replace it. “It’s like I never know when I’m going to see you again, and the only thing I have to hold on to is that you’ve always come back before. And I can’t live like that, Adrian. It’s not fair”

She expected Adrian to intervene at some point. But when he didn’t, she kept going. “I deserve someone who will make me a priority. And you have never done that. And I can’t keep asking you to put me at the top of your list”

“You don’t have to” he finally spoke. “You don’t have to keep asking because I hear you, I swear I do” Adrian pleaded.

He brought his hands up to grasp onto her waist as he continued. “This is the last time you’ll ever have to ask, and this is the last time I will show up here like this. This is the last time. And I swear won’t hurt you anymore, Y/N”

And finally, he engulfed her in a hug from behind.

Y/N allowed herself to cry and cosy into his arms. And she didn’t know if it was smart, or if he deserved it. And she didn’t know if she would regret it later. But she turned to face him and pulled him into the flat and Adrian all but slammed the door behind him.

“I love you” He cried into her hair as they stood in the front entryway together. 

She didn’t know if it was smart. She didn’t know if he deserved it and she didn’t know if she would regret it later. Really, she didn’t know much, but there was one thing she knew for sure. And so she told him.

“I love you, too”

-

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[thatyanderecritic]

The Invisible Man

Title: The Invisible Man

Media: Movie, Directed by Leigh Whannell

Yandere(s): Adrian Griffin

Yandere Scale: 0/5

Criticism written by: Kai 

Editor: Julie

The Review: 

Holy shit! Is this an actual yandere review?! OMG!!!

Haha, hi everyone. Kai here to dust off the ol’ review hat and give y’all a yandere review. This wasn’t exactly planned but this movie fell onto our laps (five dollars Tuesday from AMC :) ) and we went into this movie not expecting any yandere themes. Well… seeing the yandere scale, it’s obvious that there weren't any yanderes, to begin with. But after seeing the movie, we can see why a person may mistake the main antagonist as a “yandere”. So this is a bit of a preemptive attack from us (inb4 we get an anon ask about this movie). That being said, let’s jump straight into the review. Spoilers below cut.

I’m sure everyone knows of the original novel and movie that shares the same name… “The Invisible Man”. But this 2019 version has no tangible connection to the original novel besides the concept of an “invisible man” and one of the characters having the last name of “Griffin”. That being said, the movie is basically summarized as this: The main character: Cecilla managed to escape her abusive, mad scientist husband named Adrian. In a supposed fit of depression, Adrian “kills” himself after Cecilla left and everything seems hunky-dory. Cecilla got this big inheritance and she’s surrounded by people who care for her. But uh oh! Cecilla got some sort of third sense or something because she feels like Adrian is still out there and moving behind the scenes… he’s ruining her relationships and making her look crazy. Eventually, Cecilla finds out about this invisibility suit that Adrian is using but gets framed for murdering her sister! Things finally heat up when Cecilla finds out she’s pregnant, escapes the mental ward, and kills Adrian���s brother (who was set up by Andrian). It ends with Cecilla putting on the suit and making it look like Adrian killed himself. The end! 

Okay wow. That’s a lot but the summary for Adrian is pretty simple… he isn’t a yandere. He’s just an abuser. This word is literally tossed around every five minutes in the movie and even in plot summaries. Adrian beats Cecilla and treats her like shit. Anything that could be mistaken as “yandere actions” is just Adrian being an abusive piece of shit and doing what abusers normally do… isolate the victim. Nothing more, nothing less. If we want to put him under a microscope, it’s rather hard. Adrian took his role as the invisible man very seriously because you never see the fucking man beside the beginning and the end. No real motive as to “why” it had to be Cecilla (besides Adrian being a guy who can’t take no… according to his brother) and we only know how they met in a throwaway line by Cecilla (“I’m just some girl you met in a frat party”). Adrian was a very surface level character… actually, all of them were surface level. Just a bunch of characters tossed into a scenario. Which leaves me to my final point.

This movie… wasn’t that good. It was rather average and just “okay”. We come in expecting a thriller/horror but we ended up with a thriller/comedy. Like… deadass, the movie theater we went to was packed and the audience was fucking laughing at the shit the characters were saying. Julie and I were hysterical each time the characters does something stupid. Like… this isn’t a comedy!!! But the logic was just out the window. Characters don’t act like normal human beings and the only character that was rational was the main character… but even she had some deus ex machina level third sense. Two scenes that stood out: Cecilla was on the other side of the room when the daughter of her friend asked if she wanted a movie night. Cecilla was just about to agree when Adrian punched the teenage daughter. Then the teenage daughter told her dad that Cecilla punched her. W-what?! Like I get Adrian is invisible but Cecilla was literally on the other side of the room! What can a rational person think?! Most people would fucking assume a ghost and their house is haunted. She’s literally on the other side of the room! And the other scene is when Adrian faked a hate letter from Cecilla to her sister. Sister thought Cecilla was a major bitch and blocked her. What??? Like… no question? Not even thinking that this sort of letter doesn’t fit the type of person Cecilla is? God damn, this is advice to you all: If you receive a strange text or letter from a friend that doesn’t fit their personality… then something is fucking up. Don’t be brain dead. Everyone in this movie is braindead tbh. Julie made the joke that all the stupid side characters represent how an abuse victim feels when no one believes them. Might sound clever but please remember that no one put actual thought to this movie. 

Anyways, do I recommend this movie in general? Only if you want a good laugh and cheap jumpscares. For anything yandere related? God no, the guy is just an abusive prick. Kai, out. 

Overall Score: 2.5/10

[scarlettsabetlondongirl]

Interview of Poet Scarlett Sabet in Hunger Magazine here or below

By Ryan Lanji

THE MUSE: MEET SCARLETT SABET, THE NEXT GEN POET TO DISCOVER

Hailed as one of the brightest new stars on the international poetry scene, Scarlett Sabet has become renowned for her beautiful prose and emotive poetry readings. Now, with the release of her fourth book ‘Camille,’ a book of love poems published this Valentine’s Day, and her upcoming headline slot at The Hoxton Hotel’s poetry gala ‘Love in Other Words,’ we spoke to Sabet about poetry, performing and the meaning of love.

Hey Scarlett. Okay, first things first, how did you find poetry?

It was whilst studying English A- level that certain poems really started to fascinate me. We were studying the classics, Coleridge, and W.B Yeats and then I was asked to attend Advanced English which was a great excuse to read even more and not leave the library. I really enjoyed analysing the written word, trying to work out its alchemy. I’ve always written a kind of diary, a non-linear, random lyrical documentation of my life, experience and perspective. My poems were rooted in that and crept out. Poetry just became the language that made the most sense.

Tell us about your new book CAMILLE and launching it at the iconic book shop Shakespeare & Co in Paris?

Well, I received a strong response to the love poems in my first three books, particularly from other women. It made sense to curate them into one big book, and I’m really excited to share it. It is always an honour to read at Shakespeare & Co – it is a fantasy bookshop made real, so iconic. It’s run by Sylvia Whitman who has been a champion of my work since the beginning. Also, it made sense to launch a collection of love poems in the city of love! And the name of the book “CAMILLE” is one of my middle names given to me by my mother who is French, so it’s got an emotional connection. Paris always feels like I’m returning home.

CAMILLE is about love and is truly complex in it’s methods of describing that through past relationships, heartbreak and euphoria can you tell us how these different versions of love inform your book?

The hunger of desire, love in its purest physical form, and my work seem to be what feed me the most. I felt it made sense to curate my love poems together in one book. Being in love, I continuously try to articulate it better, in a way elevated from the simple words “I love you”. I want to paint the most vivid, visceral portrait, but I feel like I will never be done, but I’ll try a thousand times. Having said that, I’m really proud of poems like “Feathers”, “Ocean”, “Lilith In The Midheaven” – they’re raw and honest, and they seem to resonate with people which I love. The book also has a lot of poems from darker, more challenging periods of my life, and it also has poems inspired by situations I’ve observed: people chasing someone that’s cheated on them, people who have a twisted fantasy that they want to make real by projecting it onto someone who is not interested. Destructive lust. A tired relationship that’s run its course. Poems like “Off”, “Love” and “Scorpio” will make you glad that you are not in a relationship. It’s better to be single and be true to yourself rather than be humiliated and put down. It really is a book with something for everyone.

Some of your poems are made using William Burroughs’ style of cutting and pasting, can you tell us more about being inspired by his method and the poem you created?

Well I have a huge respect for William Burroughs, Brion Gysion, Kerouac, Neal, Ginsberg… I feel those beat generation writers were truly courageous, and really living to their own principles. They upheld their art above all else, and were ravenous in their explorations socially, sexually, culturally. They have been so influential, and I feel perhaps that hasn’t been fully recognised. A poem in this book is a love letter, maybe a kind of eulogy, for Jack Kerouac, it’s called “For Jack”. I read it for the first-time last autumn in Kerouac’s birthplace in Massachusetts, at a festival I was asked to perform at and so I guess it’s infused with some of his hometown energy.

I find the cut-up method liberating. It’s both disciplined and random, and I think it’s a good exercise for writers. It makes you detach and broaden your horizons. Burroughs said “when you cut into the present the future leaks out” so that was something I had in mind. I used the cut-up method with a poem called “Hiding In Plain Sight”. I wrote out phrases from every other poem in the book, the poems that already existed, I added I think 4 additional phrases, turned them over so I couldn’t read them, arranged them, then turned them over to read the sequence it had formed. From the existing poems a new mutation had formed. And I always find that when you cut something up and rearrange it, it creates its own dark, random rhythm. Another poem in Camille was done using cut up, it’s called “And My Lungs Fill With Ecstatic Song”, that’s more of an ecstatic mantra, trying to capture this transcendental feeling, a reflection on a loving memory as I was walking in the countryside by a river, it was kind of an epiphany. Ginsberg and Burroughs both stayed at Shakespeare and Co in Paris too. Burroughs started writing Naked Lunch there.

Do you think poetry can change the world? If so, how?

I do. I think in a slow, subtle but effective way. It filters into our consciousness and our diets are so important, not just what we eat and drink, but what we watch, what we read, what we listen to, we gradually absorb. I think a poet’s responsibility is to be of service, and also hold up a mirror to our times, socially, politically, whilst incorporating the individual experience, the mundane, the disappointment, desire, reflection.

Do you think there is a resurgence of poetry through social media culture?

I think so. The internet makes everything so accessible. It’s easily to access artists and find them on social media, see how they present themselves. That can say just as much as their work, I think. I enjoy posting poems I’ve already published. Also, go on Youtube, you can hear Adrian Mitchell perform his poem “Tell Me Lies About Vietnam” at the Royal Albert Hall in 1965, it’s a fantastically passionate performance, the poem still so relevant today. You can YouTube Sylvia Plath reading “Daddy”.

What are the similarities to meme culture and poetry? What are the differences?

The only memes I know about are astrology memes. I’d say poetry and memes are separate. Read “Howl” if you disagree.

How can we keep meme culture – in regards to the spreading of word via imagery – and poetry separate?

Well a meme is about three sentences at most with a picture. Unless it’s a haiku you are hard pressed to call that a poem.

Who are the poets who inspire you and who are you looking to inspire?

Jack Kerouac, Emily Dickinson, Bob Dylan, Sylvia Plath. I’m really inspired by Ted Hughes. He was very human in his flaws, he became notorious and he was a lightning rod for controversy, but I find his work astounding. He committed his whole life to his poetry and to nature and was poet laureate. His love poems are achingly raw and carnal and knowing. He published “Birthday Letters” in 1998 not long before he died, and they were all of his love poems to Sylvia Plath. Had he published them decades earlier perhaps things might have been easier in some respects. I suppose, I’d like my work to be of service to people., perhaps validate their own feelings. And really, I’m an outsider on the inside, so I hope that perhaps I could inspire someone to use their own voice, or pursue their life’s great work, even if those around them are doubtful.

Many people find poetry to be beautiful when they come upon it (usually by chance) but what advice would you give someone who wanted more of it in their life?

Go to a poetry reading. I get so much from performing my work, I put everything into it and the audience and I are living it together. I also love sitting in a packed basement, watching other people getting up, hearing someone lay down their words. I absorb the poetry better when it’s read aloud.

Poetry has become quite fashionable recently and fashion is considered visual poetry what do you think about this relationship?

I think it’s a relationship that makes sense. Good tailoring is like a well-structured poem, it looks and feels effortless, it flows in a beautiful way that catches and keeps the attention of the audience, but it’s been created by a craftsman with love.

Where would you like to be in 20 years with your poetry?

My life has broadened in such unpredictable ways these last few years it’s hard to predict. I imagine I will still be just as obsessed with writing and poetry and pushing myself further – I’m sure certain magical things will have manifested by then though.

Camille can be purchased here

Photo: Photographer David Brolan