The bard celebrates two other fine practitioners of the art, and laments a lost brewer
Macbeth
Ross Sutherland
Once the body was split from the head,
which part of the corpse was still called Macbeth?
A gangster is found dissolved in a bath,
where passes his debts? All those breaths
of brickdust inhaled at St Peter’s Basilica
so what, am I blessed? Face like a Bafta,
I once told a man I was turned on by voting booth
curtains. That given half a chance, I’d sex
the box where Schrödinger’s Cat once was
or was not. Maybe I only half-said it in jest.
What’s a guy got to do for an Aztec death?
Kill a dog to go with me. On the form of my flesh,
tick here if you want to remember me.
Best,
SETH SANDRONSKY recommends a production that looks back at the political Tinseltown in the mid-1970s when US cinema ‘didn’t pander to trends’
RUTH AYLETT reviews two collections of outright political poetry
by Widad Nabi
SETH SANDRONSKY savours a personal account of the life and thought of the great Italian revolutionary


