graham brodie,

  • Fugitive Bullets

    Fugitive Bullets, you can tell from the cover, is out for fun. 

    This you spot from the fact that the writers are together described as electrophalluciphysicians, (one of the few search terms on the internet that throws up no less than zero results) and may refer to the fact that aside from their other commonalities, the writers here published are all experimentally or underground Scots blokes.

  • Wild Ways by Graham Brodie

    The poet Brodie bares himself. All poets bare themselves and their poems sit at a certain balance, between how much the poet is baring, and how much of it we can enjoy or bear to look at. Brodie shows us the edges of his sanity, his demons and his feelings, and with a healthy disregard for how much of it we want to see.  It’s his decision, and we are going to see it all, and it’s brave.  Brodie writes like fuck!  He writes like an apocalyptic angel, and the verses which result appear as narratives in a broken, bedsit kind of way.