Monday 6 November 2023

Launching Turn Around When Possible

V. Press is very very delighted to announce the publication of Turn Around When Possible by Martin Zarrop.

“Combining a scientific eye with a poetic sensibility (and a sharp sense of humour), Martin Zarrop’s work is thought-provoking and wry. These poems take the long view and they never shy away from difficulty, each expertly using form to amplify content. Turn Around When Possible is an enlightening, enjoyable read.”

Helen Mort

“Whether he is looking back fondly on the seemingly mundane details of a working-class childhood or exploring the vastness of interstellar space, Martin Zarrop’s poems are distinguished by their metaphysical wit, humour, and sheer accessibility. There is a mathematical precision to every poem in this collection, a focus on details, that leads inevitably and, with a minimum of fuss, to memorable insights into love, affection, the ineluctable passage of time, and humanity’s place in the universe. Turn Around When Possible is a delight from start to finish and shows Zarrop writing at the height of his very considerable powers.”
David Cooke

Turn Around When Possible is very uncertain and very quirky.

ISBN: 978-1-7398838-8-1
74 pages    
R.R.P. £10.99

A sample poem can be enjoyed below.

BUY TURN AROUND WHEN POSSIBLE NOW using the paypal options below. 

Turn Around When Possible

BOOK BUNDLES [while stocks last]


Turn Around When Possible (TAWP) + Making Waves Bundle


Turn Around When Possible (TAWP) + To Boldly Go Bundle

N.B. Any international customs/duty charges are the buyer's responsibility.


Grumbling thunder gently shakes
the grimy windows, as he takes
his medication. Breakfast news 
depresses. He sips coffee, guesses
it will rain, decides he must abort
the routine of his daily walk.

The clock is striking eight, then ten.
He’ll find some other way (again!)
to pass the time. Another cryptic?
Out of sight the slow tick-tick 
of something drip drip dripping
from behind the bathroom light.

The phone is shrill. Is someone dead? 
Hello, Sir – sorry – my name’s Smith.
A class parades inside his head.
You used to teach me in the sixth…
Oh, I recall – it’s thirty years
and I’m still here, but my dear wife…

I only rang to thank you, Sir,
for making such a difference to my life.

No comments:

Post a Comment

Note: only a member of this blog may post a comment.