2024 Poet in Residence
at Shaldon Wildlife Trust

https://www.shaldonwildlifetrust.org.uk/

I am pleased to announce that throughout 2024 I shall be poet in residence at the remarkable Shaldon Wildlife Trust in Devon. It is a beautiful, brilliant zoo set in an acre of woodland garden, perched right above the south Devon coast. Hospitable and generous staff make up a remarkable community that runs and supports the zoo, which also runs some amazing conservation programs. My residency will include two public events, a small limited edition publication, film documentation and more. The new poems I'll write will be primarily about the animals residing in Shaldon, from Bintarongs, Lemurs and Loris' to Armadillos, Dart Frogs and Lovebirds. As a Devonian myself, this is a special project for me, connected to the wonderful people which make the county so unique.

Poetry Walking Tour, event #2 : September 14th 2024

With new poems by myself and other poets to be announced.

Poetry Walking Tour, event #1 : May 22nd

What we have and why we have it (Phasmid and Theraphosidae)

Naming all things the name of all things,
305 newborn stick insects are in a brown glass case.
This is the office.

Each is to be named as a life of animals living longer
on the energy of volunteers.

Each insect alone would wield a fair full camouflage,
but together they are exceedingly visible.

In the next world, the lady that saves us money,
the tarantula. A look, not touch kind of spider.

It will flick it’s hairs like a compliment,
kicking off the soft ends of barbs,
crawling home like a moveable lotus.

Fear or food, it moves in the general direction of The Ness,
but absolutely unable to go that far.

The Viverrid Shuffle (Cassandra)

This Bintarong does not speak English.
The oldest trick in the book, I think.
Musk it speaks. Burning popcorn, deliberately.

Quite a night face. But flopped over a log.
An etched face, a stone night animal,
a happy camper with a fur mask.

Nothing is personal for the the Shaldon Bintarong
except perhaps the knowledge it is yards from a cliff
and the coastal trail to Torquay
and the hills between it and there
full of insects, berries and forgotten non-zoo animal skeletons.

The Bintarong ambles, whisks and airs.
It is the quiet big I am.
It ropes and cats, a sort of bear, and balances, orsonally.
It is long enough from tail to tip to pretend wink.

That’s enough, with the smell, to break visitor hearts
and here at this zoo, fearlessly, the animal is named Cassandra.