I could recommend enjoying this with a gin and tonic, as in ‘Stephanie’, allowing the liquid to slip down the throat smooth as silk, smooth as the words – a clean, clear drink that “cracked the cold ice”.
Alternatively, a refreshing jasmine tea would perfectly accompany the zen-like care of poems such as ‘Miniature Garden’.
Another option for later in the day is a glass of white wine, enjoyed on the lawn, with unmown grass, the “simple yellow greetings” of wild flowers and surprising long light of an evening in June where “we’ve hours before it gets dark” (‘Isn’t it light tonight?’).
But The Girl Who Grew Into a Crocodile is a collection, like its title poem, that also has teeth. For these poems, and the poems of beach air, the sharp salt tang of a tequila – a strong drink for strong poems, with a hint of fire and sunshine in every mouthful.
The one important characteristic is a flavour that lingers and tempts, like the pamphlet, long after the cup or glass is emptied.
Anon Poet
For a sample poem, please click here.
To order a copy of Claire Walker's The Girl Who Grew Into a Crocodile, please use the paypal link below.
