Black History Month 2026 Spotlight: Nelissa Mendy

Rhyme, Resilience, and Reclaiming the Narrative

This Black History Month, the theme is ‘Honouring Our Communities’, honouring the contributions of black people to Britain’s past, present and future, recognising those individuals whose everyday contributions shape, support, and sustain black life across the UK. 

This month, I’m honouring Nelissa Mendy, a vital voice in contemporary British poetry, weaving rhythmic oral traditions with sharp social activism. As a celebrated London-based spoken word artist, Nelissa carries forward a rich legacy of Black British artistry. Known for her commanding presence on stages like the Mayor of London’s Black On The Square festival at Trafalgar Square, the V&A, and the Tate, her work effortlessly bridges traditional dub poetry and contemporary spoken word. Her signature rhythm and accessible, punchy rhyme make her deep political commentary feel urgent, melodic, and deeply human.

L-R Nelissa Mendy, Me, Patricia Foster,
Brown Eyes Launch (2005)

I first met Nelissa at the launch of Brown Eyes (2005), my first anthology of poetry and personal essays by Black and mixed-heritage women, funded by an Arts Council England Grants for the Arts award. Nelissa had contributed two poems: ‘Glad to be Me’ and ‘African Roots.’

Contextualising Nelissa Mendy in the Black British Poetry Scene

To truly understand Nelissa’s placement in the modern landscape, one must look at her artistic lineage. She stands firmly in the lineage of pioneers like Linton Kwesi Johnson and the late, great Benjamin Zephaniah (to whom she wrote a powerful tribute in December 2023). Like these giants, Nelissa views the microphone as a tool for public justice.

In the wider contemporary Black British poetry scene — alongside contemporaries like George the Poet or Anthony Anaxagorou — Nelissa balances systemic critique with community-centric healing. Her poetry functions not just as art, but as a living archive of urban British history, giving words to communities experiencing profound grief and political neglect.

The Fight for Grenfell: ‘Out of Site is Never Out of Mind’

A core pillar of Nelissa’s activism is her unyielding dedication to the victims and survivors of the Grenfell Tower tragedy on 14 June 2017, a disaster that claimed members of her own family, Khadijya Saye and her mother, Mary Mendy. Working closely with advocacy networks, her poem serves as a stinging critique of empty bureaucracy with staggering clarity:

No straight line, only broken dreams, broken promises …

Being passed along a chain …

Only to find ourselves, in the same place again …

No clear answers … Hope is on the ropes.

This piece demands that the public refuse to let corporate and political structures brush the tragedy aside. For a deeper audio-visual dive into her ongoing tribute, you can watch her poignant reflections below on YouTube in ‘Grenfell Tower 9 Years On.’

Deep Dive Review: Write Things (Published March 2026)

Published by Write4Life, Nellisa's recent poetry collection, Write Things, is an extraordinary, intimate 32-page triumph.

I love a book launch! And Nelissa's was exceptional. Held on the evening of 17 April 2026 at Abbey Community Centre in north-west London, we were in for a treat, with family and friends gathering to celebrate Write Things with a bunch of readings, guest speakers, and a chance to mingle with the star herself. Check out her Instagram post for more insight.

The Verdict: ★★★★★

While brief, Write Things punches far above its weight class. This collection acts as a retrospective of Nellisa’s live performance themes, anchoring her transient spoken word into physical text. The book explores systemic racism within the educational system, the devastating local impact of knife crime, and the healing found in celebrating Black joy (‘Glad to Be Me’).

Nelissa’s brilliance lies in her restraint. She uses simple, universal language and structural rhyme schemes to embed deeply complex traumatic realities. It is a vital text for anyone trying to understand the emotional temperature of modern working-class London.

What truly elevates Write Things is the exquisite integration of her own photography, which breathes vibrant, visual life into the written word. Rather than serving as mere background decoration, Nelissa's beautiful photographs act as a vital extension of the text itself, mirroring the mood and emotional cadence of her work. Every image is thoughtfully captured and placed, casting a unique light on the prose and inviting the reader to pause, reflect, and see the world through her lens. This seamless interplay between evocative imagery and poignant poetry transforms the reading experience into a stunning, multi-sensory journey that lingers long after the final page is turned.

From Student to Supporter: St Marylebone C of E School Library Fundraiser

Nelissa’s dedication to community loops beautifully back to her roots. In a touching full-circle moment, she recently lent her voice to support the library fundraising efforts at her childhood alma mater, St Marylebone C of E School.

Watching her perform in the library space where she once sat as a child is a profound reminder of why representation matters in literature. You can view the full, moving performance below:

Watch: Poet Nelissa Mendy at St Marylebone C of E School Library:

How are you celebrating Black History Month 2026 on your bookshelves? Have you read Write Things yet? Let’s discuss in the comments below!

Just Published: a Black History Month Special

 

Just Published: 'Rising Up the Crooked Ladder': 

An Artist Spotlight on Carol Leeming

 In BlackInk Magazine Issue 6, 

Serendipity Institute for Black Arts and Heritage

BlackInk is a magazine published by the Serendipity Institute for Black Arts and Heritage that focuses on Black arts, heritage, and cultural politics. BlackInk serves as a bridge between physical magazines and digital content, creatively uniting a diverse array of voices from the African and African Caribbean Diaspora, as well as from indigenous communities.

 

In my article, 'Rising Up the Crooked Ladder,' I explore Carol Leeming's remarkable career in the performing arts, which spans three decades. The piece highlights her experiences navigating racism, sexism, and ageism, while also showcasing Carol's personal and professional insights on sustaining a challenging career. Despite the obstacles she has faced, her commitment to making art happen remains unwavering.

 

This article aligns perfectly with this year's Black History Month theme: 'Standing Firm in Power and Pride.' This theme celebrates the power, resilience, and unity of Black communities both in the UK and worldwide, honouring the legacy of those who have fought for equality.

 

The article originated from my studies in the Royal College of Art's MA Writing Programme, where my first assignment involved interviewing a person of cultural significance. I chose Carol for her prominent role as a performance artist who has left an indelible mark on the music, theatre, digital media, and literary arts industries.

 

I first met Carol Leeming years ago in Leicester. On one occasion, I was invited to partake in an Ntozake Shange Memorial event on December 21, 2018, at the Attenborough Arts Centre in Leicester. This event, co-hosted by Dare to Diva—an initiative established by Carol—celebrated Shange's life and literary legacy.

 

As a writer dedicated to highlighting untold narratives that reflect the complexity of Black history, culture, and heritage, I felt it was important to honour Carol as one of our sheroes this month.

Performance Poetry — Revisited

It's been a while since I've performed poetry, as the poet in me has been lying dormant until recently. That is, until I wrote 'Brixton Revisited; Brixton Remembered' which revived my poet self and marked my return to one of my favourite writing genres.

So, when I was invited to perform on 19 April 2024 at Speak n Spoke, a spoken word event held at Station Ten in Sydenham, I sensed that I would be in for a fun evening of sharing poems, with opportunities to mingle and network and generally have a great time; I didn't hesitate because I was keen to get back on track. 

I read three of my poems (summarised below) from Hair Power Skin Revolution (2010), an independently published anthology of poetry and personal essays by women of African and Caribbean heritage, edited by myself and funded by an Arts Council England Grants for the Arts award. 

'My Hair' - depicts my hair journey from early childhood, of not having any control over my hair, to my 1970s Angela Davis style afro — "My natural hair grew wild and free" and then - "The curly perm took the eighties by surprise" followed by a battle with relaxing - " ... the most unnecessary of all my hair stresses," settling for a while with braids - " ... with human wavy hair of blonde, beige, and brown shades," and then growing my hair into locs - "to a natural free and liberating style."

'Lost for Words' - depicts the time when I brought home my first black boyfriend and introduced him to my grandfather, whose first words spoken to him were, "You've been in the sun along time," and how "he was/ the one and only real/ boyfriend that/ I ever introduced/ to my grandfather."

'Skin' - depicts how our skin has its natural uses, "For protection against the unknown /armour/ against disclosing dreams/ Skin, carries your spirit within /Skin acts as a barrier to whether I let you in/ on/ my portable journey/ Adrift with its unnecessaries."

Reappearing and sharing my poems out in the open, I was determined to keep the momentum alive. 

So, on 29 May 2025, I went to the monthly Open Mic Night at The Gallery Cafe, St Margaret's House, in East London, a free event held on the last Thursday of each month (no event in August or December) hosted by singer and guitarist Olie, which offers 8 slots of 8-10 minutes, and welcomes musicians, poets, and comedians. 

As this was my first visit, I was initially going to just watch how the event unfolded. However, when I met Laura at the bar, she encouraged me to put my name down for the open mic slot, telling me that I could change my mind if I wanted to. I was sixth and last in the lineup; I had plenty of time to decide. 

Earlier in the afternoon, I considered performing 'Brixton Revisited; Brixton Remembered' since it hadn't been aired, so to speak, with a public audience, although it's live on the Art on the Underground website.

This event turned out to be a welcoming, low-key, and mellow vibe, the perfect atmosphere to ease my way back onto the stage! I was more than ready by the time my slot arrived and really enjoyed sharing and airing my poem.  

When I left, I was feeling uplifted, so I decided to return on 26th June, this time without any hesitation about signing up for an open mic slot. This time, I felt much more settled while I was waiting for my turn, fourth and last (again). 

I read two poems: 'Night Drive' (2013), which expresses those joyful moments of driving through the night, when you have the road to yourself, and 'Home' (2017), a prose poem that describes how at the age of 13, I missed London so much when I moved to the Midlands, that I returned to live with my grandparents for a few weeks but missed my mother. 

While watching the previous performers, I got chatting to singer and guitarist Lieke, who was understandably nervous as this was her debut open mic performance. I know exactly what that feels like. My debut was in 1997 at a spoken word event called Dennawadis, hosted by Cuban Redd (aka Shirley Mason). 

On this particular night, there was a full house of over 50 people, not just facing me but to my left and right! Talk about nerve-wracking. Afterwards, I told Shirley, "Never again." Shirley's advice was to "do it again, and soon." She insisted that I push through my fear and read at the next month's Dennawadis, paying me on this occasion too. 

Shirley was right about breaking through 'stage fright' because the same thing happened to her, and she was encouraged to perform again, otherwise, she might have given up. What I learned from her is that we all need support when transitioning our poetry writing from the page to the stage.    

Lieke's debut open mic went well, and I encouraged her to sign up next month and do it again!                         

Zadie Smith in Conversation with Kwame Kwei-Armah

On 17 June 2024, I went to see Zadie Smith at Union Chapel, a beautiful venue in Highbury, Islington, north London. The event's host was Kwame Kwei-Armah, courtesy of the Intelligence Squared.

As I travelled on the 30 bus to the area, nostalgia sank right in. I grew up in Highbury; it's where I went to primary and secondary school. In my adult years, I worked and lived there. Although I'm not based in Islington now, this journey felt like I was coming home. How cool that my first physical sighting of Zadie Smith was in my home town territory!

I have seen Zadie many times in a range of interviews on YouTube videos over the years, but this was seeing her in-person; a whole other anticipated and excited experience was in store. I arrived twenty minutes early to find a lengthy queue outside. I eventually managed to find a good enough seat three rows from the front in the middle section. The venue's capacity is 800 people and it was a full house!

Zadie was appearing at this event to talk about her new novel, The Fraud, named in December as one of the ten best books of 2023 by the staff of The New York Times Book Review. This is Zadie's sixth novel, her first novel in seven years, and her debut historical novel. She was also at this event to mark the publication of the paperback edition of the novel.

The Fraud's main characters are based on real historical figures — alleged fraudsters, freed enslaved people — who lived in Zadie's own London neighbourhood of Kilburn, north-west London. Yet, the novel is as international as it is local and addresses issues of politics and identity that make The Fraud feel as much about today as about the past.

The novel explores the controversy surrounding the Tichborne case, in which a lower-class man claimed to be the lost heir to an aristocratic family fortune. The plot is partly about an enslaved man on a Jamaican sugar plantation, whilst simultaneously a complicated and comedic narrative that sketches scenes of life in 19th-century England and the Caribbean. Much of the novel follows a bizarre court case that gripped the British public during that period. 

The event started with Zadie reading a short passage from The Fraud, followed by a conversation with Kwame, who embarked upon a range of questions about the idea behind the book, the characters, the plot, and her writing journey from start to publication. The book took two years to write, but many years of research beforehand. We were then in store for a general discussion about Zadie's writing career, writing process, and how she lives her life without social media distractions, during which she was, as usual, her most generous. 

My experience of being in the limelight of Zadie Smith for one and a half hours was, in one word, mesmerising! I got so much from hearing her talk; it was such a splendid experience. I knew Zadie had a way with the written word, but this extends to her spoken words, too, which is why she is such an inspiring and insightful writer. Every word she spoke was richly textured, nuanced and multi-layered with such depth of understanding of not just her craft but the world at large, which came through in the way she responded to every question she was asked, not just by Kwame but during the Q & A at the end.

Brixton Revisited; Brixton Remembered

Shangwe · Brixton Revisited; Brixton Remembered

Jem Perucchini's 'Rebirth of a Nation' Brixton Station's Header Mural
Photo Credit: Angus Mill

A collaboration with Art on the Underground

In one of the units of my Writing MA at the Royal College of Art we were asked to individually write a text in response to an Art on the Underground commission for Brixton Stations's header wall and the historical context of the Brixton murals. We were also asked to individually create a five-minute audio piece, which is now hosted here on the Art on the Underground website .

My final audio piece is now available to listen to via SoundCloud (above), and the full transcript is available to read (below). 'Brixton Revisited'; 'Brixton Remembered' is a second-person spoken word vignette-style narrative in two parts — 

'Brixton Revisited' expresses my perspective of returning to a place you haven't visited for ten years; seeing the place with fresh eyes. 'Brixton Remembered' reflects a perspective from Kim Watson, a friend, who has lived in Brixton for thirty years. You could say the whole piece is a reflection of time and place, past and present.

Brixton Station's Header Mural
Photo Credit: Angus Mill

We also individually provided a short text for a leaflet to be distributed at Brixton tube station. The leaflet is to serve as an advert for the audio and will be distributed to Brixton tube travellers. We worked with graphic designer Fraser Muggeridge and had input on the leaflet design as the project progressed. Two pieces of my artwork were also selected for inclusion in the leaflet's design. 

Audio Transcript:

Brixton Revisited

Brixton looks both familiar and new,
like a foreign country you are returning to after many years.
An exile you don't even remember.

The buildings are mostly the same.
Morleys is still firm,
though its prices have fluctuated to levels
that exclude rather than include.
Business as usual trumps community development.

The details have changed: the younger generation with smartphones,
directing their rights of passage into their virtual life,
electric bikes and bikes for hire taking up space,
protruding dangerously misplaced.
Cyclists on single speed bikes,
confronted with potholes that bite back.

Gentrification has a presence
with pop-up shops floating, trying,
to fit in somehow.

Reggae rhythms, bass lines and crisp soundscapes
the one staple that continues to express itself everywhere you go
You can easily relate.

Refreshing black cultural shops flourishing
in their upmarket presentations
and their attractive holistic goods,
their sweet meditative sounds
soothing your shopping experience.

Restaurants from every which way,
chain stores spreading their wings
offering light refreshments,
coffee, bubble tea — sometimes free —
encouraging lengthy queues.

The hustle and bustle surrounding the tube hasn't changed;
that you know you can rely on

you hear police and ambulance sirens
flow as per usual with their fast-paced energy.

The new, exquisite tube-header mural
is mesmerizing
you stay transfixed on its impact
you absorb its largeness; its entirety envelopes a stunning yet glowing earthly look.

The Windrush mural greets you
— two front-line pieces with warm tones
— as you step into Brixton Village, with its edgy vibe

You need to feel this yourself; it's much more of an experience than a sighting.

Brixton Remembered

So, what does Brixton mean to you?
Especially since you have been living here for 30 years.
Why Brixton?
You told me that it was reminiscent of Liverpool, where you were born, although you mentioned that the diversity of the people here wasn't as mixed back then.

Originally, you could say Brixton was perceived
as a bit 'ghettoish' following the 1981 uprisings.
It's now quite the middle-class enclave
It's gone a bit trendy.

Brixton has also become a constant nightlife
of drinking and eating.
You see, it's just bar after bar after restaurant after restaurant.
You know this is for the younger generation
and it's an overpowering new energy
an ever-evolving new nation.

Brixton Village is a prime example
that has seen the most significant changes to its landscape
over the last five years.

The beating heart of Brixton can't be replaced despite the fact that
the established multi-cultural and multi-generational community
is being lost.

You are concerned that the upmarket shops and offices
are displacing the local market traders
and you are also concerned that
the traditional community of Windrush descendants have
been steadily — over the last eight to ten years — driven out of the area,
replaced by the so-called young professionals.

Also, you used to know who was out there
standing on your street corner,
familiar faces I mean.
Now, that's gone,
You don't know anyone out there anymore.
That's what's scary.

The realisation is that the Brixton you knew historically
is gone, the Brixton you knew culturally is gone,
and the Brixton you know now is a fading memory
which is ever shapeshifting,
ever being reprocessed, reinvented,
in the name of progress, growth, development, and change,
in the name of out with the old, and in with the new.

Anthony Joseph in Conversation at the London Buddhist Centre

This time last week, I was still reflecting on Anthony Joseph, who read from his T.S. Eliot award-winning collection of poetry, Sonnets for Albert (2022). This was a wonderful evening where Anthony was in conversation with Maitreyabandhu at the London Buddhist Centre, in East London, on 21 October. This was part of a series of Poetry East events that the centre organises, held in the beautiful Buddhist Temple, which is adorned with an ambience of candles in abundance and vases of flowers that were remarkable to view.

My friend Yvette Ellis and I arrived early enough to get a front-row seat. Anthony was blessed with a full house, and we were blessed with hearing many of the poems from Sonnets for Albert, written after the death of Anthony's father. The poems mainly stemmed from the absence of Anthony's father due to a range of factors, including the fact that he had twelve children. Here's the first poem in the book's inside cover that sums up this theme perfectly:

FLACK AND HATHAWAY

My father would be gone.

Months into mystery.

But he persisted

in our longing.

We saw him

maybe once, maybe

twice a year. We sang

Flack and Hathaway,

that he would come running.

And while we waited

the myth of him grew,

till the anticipation

of his return

would fill each room. 

This event was very inspiring. I was moved by the emotional content of Anthony's poems, especially that despite the absence of his father, he grew to love him, which may have had something to do with Anthony living with his grandmother, his father's mother, who also experienced the same absence in her relationship with her son. Maybe growing up with his grandmother in Trinidad ensured that the connection with Anthony's father was less likely to be severed.

Anthony also discussed how the personal can be universal. I like the way the book is structured; the shortness of the self-contained poems and their related themes didn't detract from the significance of their depth and breadth. I know it's a cliche, but less is definitely more with this book. 

Some of the sonnets exceeded fourteen lines — I love a rebel poet! This was a deliberate action on Anthony's part, a kind of rule-breaking, a manipulation of the form, acknowledging the imperialism of not just the sonnet's form but its history. 

Black and white photographs taken in Trinidad and sprinkled throughout the book, was also a nice touch as we could see Anthony's father in a range of guises as well as other family members and garner a real sense of nostalgia. The white space behind each image worked really well to provide a slight distance from the text, a refreshing pause.

I also thought it would be really interesting to explore writing in the sonnet form myself at some point, in exactly the same rule-breaking way. 

This Poetry East event was so refreshing and thought-provoking, especially as I could resonate with the absent father theme, although I didn't quite grow to love my father. Maybe it is a different scenario when you are growing up with your father's grandmother. How lovely that must have been for Anthony to at least find out about his father through his grandmother. It must be nice to be that close when you're growing up with your grandmother. I grew up with my grandmother, so I totally understand that element.

No Q&A!

I mentioned this to Maitreyabandhu as I was leaving and he nodded as if to say yes I get you. There was more than enough time for a Q & A, since the event was two hours long, and included a tea-break too, so this was a missed opportunity. 

I got around this by making sure to ask Anthony a question while I was getting his book signed. My question was: How much artistic control did you have when putting the collection of poetry together? Anthony responded by saying that he did have artistic control, which included curating the order of the poems and the book's landscape and inclusion of imagery. 

If you get a chance to see Anthony Joseph, don't hesitate. You will enjoy the experience!

Author Bio:

Anthony Joseph is a Trinidad-born poet, novelist, academic and musician. He is the author of four poetry collections and three novels. His 2018 novel Kitch: A Fictional Biography of a Calypso Icon was shortlisted for the Republic of Consciousness Prize, the Royal Society of Literature's Encore Award, and longlisted for the OCM Bocas Prize for Caribbean Literature. In 2019, he was awarded a Jerwood Compton Poetry Fellowship. As a musician, he has released eight critically acclaimed albums and, in 2020, received a Paul Hamlyn Foundation Composers Award. He is a Senior Lecturer in Creative Writing at De Montfort University, Leicester. Anthony was awarded the T.S. Eliot Prize for Sonnets for Albert (2022), his first poetry collection since Rubber Orchestra in 2013. 

Claudia Rankine In Conversation with Nicola Rollock

On 14 March 2023, I went to see Claudia Rankine In Conversation with Nicola Rollock, at the London Review Bookshop (LRB) which holds 20,000 titles on two floors in Bloomsbury, London, plus there's a cafe that serves cake and tea!

This was one of the best literary events I had been to in years.  To say I'm a fan of Claudia Rankine is putting it mildly, so I made sure to sit at the front.

Claudia Rankine, poet, essayist and playwright, was at LRB to discuss a new forthcoming revised and re-issued version of PLOT,  (2023) her third collection of poetry, initially written in 2001, before Claudia Rankine had a child, as a thought experiment around what it means to decide to be an artist and to be a parent and the challenges that brings. PLOT is a poetry collection concerning pregnancy and motherhood told fictitiously by using a couple named Erland and Liv to drive the narrative. 

The text of PLOT crosses genres, existing at times in poetry, at times in dialogue, in order to arrive at new life and baby Ersatz. At most, the text explores what it means to be human and to invest in humanity.

Excerpt

1

Submerged deeper than appetite, she bit into a freakish anatomy, the hard plastic of filiation, a fetus dream, once severed, reattached, the baby femur not fork-tender though flesh, the baby face now anchored.

What Liv would make would be familial, not foreign, forsaken. She knew this and tried to force the scene, focus the world, in the dream. Snapping, the crisp rub of thumb to index, she was in rehearsal with everyone, loving the feel of cartilage, ponderous of damaged leaves, then only she, singing internally, only she revealed, humming, undressing a lullaby: bitterly, sinkholes to underground streams ...

In the dream waist deep, retrieving a fossilized pattern forming in attempt to prevent whispers, or poisoned regrets, reaching into reams and reams, to needle-scam a cord in the stream, as if a wish borne out of rah-rah's rude protrusion to follow the rest was sporded, split, and now hard pressed to enter the birth.

In the dream, the reassembled desire to conceive wraps the tearing placenta to a walled uterus, urge formed complicit.

* * *

The event lasted 45 minutes and was also streamed live online. In the Q&A at the end, I was keen to ask a question:

NM: It's great to see you in the flesh, as I've been watching you on YouTube for a long time. It actually feels like I'm in your front room.

CR: Because you are! This is my home. I'm really enjoying reading.

NM: I wanted to ask you about Just Us — the process — because I also make art and I'm a writer and poet, so all of that is working well for me. Do you think there will be any more books like Just Us in the future?

CR: Right now, I'm failing badly at trying to work on a new book ... I've been looking at all of these people ... Mahsa Amini, people who do things ... in grasping life, they also have to grasp death at the same time, that you can't separate the two things. [NB: Mahsa Amini, aged 22, died in custody on 18 September 2022, three days after her arrest by the notorious morality police in Tehran for allegedly breaching the Islamic Republic's strict dress code for women.] Mahsa Amini, the woman who lowered her headscarf, was killed in Iran. But the people came out in objection to her killing, but they, too, in coming out to value Mahsa's life, had to grasp their own death and know that the moment you do that, is the moment that the State no longer has control over you.

Lewis Hyde once said, 'Poetry is outside of the market economy, so it allows that freedom for the writer to do whatever they want.' So, I've always felt that in the realm of poetry, it's the one genre that has not needed market controls or influences. The world of poetry is the most open place"

When asked about the meanings of the title PLOT, Claudia Rankine said:

CR: The title was chosen because of the multiple meanings and it contained both the idea of a storyline and a plan and also a grave — all thematically relevant to the possibilities of where we were going, i.e. whether following Wolff to the River Ouse or fighting in scenes of a marriage or using language to describe my own husband. Throughout the book, there are moments when the titles are words that are contained in other words. I wanted to show how the word lives independently and also with other words.

The final question was 'Do you have any advice on how to broaden the readership of poetry?

CR: Poets like T.S. Eliot used to be able to fill stadiums. I think poetry should be heard on the radio. It's an oral activity ... the music ... there's so much work that goes into the cadenza... we could have five-minute sections in mainstream radio, just before the 12 o'clock news, to listen to a poem. I think when people begin to hear it, they'll become less afraid because poetry is just language, but because it defies the rules of grammar, of expectation, there's a kind of 'I don't get it.' But you do know, and you will get it if you're open to it. You have to let down the guard that says, because this isn't functioning like a newspaper article, I'll be able to understand this. It's just habits of reading and listening.

Claudia Rankine recommended Poor (2020) by Caleb Femi, winner of The Forward Prize Best First Collection (2021). "Unlike me, he doesn't have to buy in images; he takes his own photographs that are in the book. It's really phenomenal."

Claudia Rankine is the author of five volumes of poetry, two plays and various essays. She has won numerous awards, too many to list here. I particularly enjoyed reading Just Us: An American Conversation, a brilliant arrangement of essays, poems, and images, which includes the voices and rebuttals of others, e.g., white men in first class responding to, and with, their white male privilege; a friend's explanation of her infuriating behaviour at a play, and much more.