"I sometimes think no poetry is read…
…save where some sepultured Caesura bled.”A letter to a living poet, Rupert Brooke So I found an ancient (given as a gift in 1944) copy of the complete works of Rupert Brooke in a charity shop for 50 pence. And oh my god. Because up until now, I’ve only read one poem of Brooke’s. I [...]