Got Milk?

Tanvir Naomi Bush Cull, photography, Poetry Leave a Comment

Hello you lovely lot,

A beautiful and delicate cup and saucer are in the centre of the frame. the cup is full of dark coffee and there are two fingers of shortbread on the saucer. Are you well?  Many apologies for the long wait between updates but got a lot to tell you.  Need a coffee before we start? Milk? I’ll put the kettle on if you get the biscuits.

Okay, here is the dish.

The CULL special edition is going to be with you, the supporters, before Dec 2018 and the trade version out into the shops for around January 2019.

I know, I know…it is a bit longer than I had anticipated too BUT Unbound have been really clear about the need to ensure the novel smacks down with the ultimate impact and there are splodges of time we need to avoid – i.e. autumn and celebrity Xmas book inundation. We are in copyediting mode now and will be thinking of cover design soon which is all most exciting and will be a distraction from the long wait.

In other news – we have another Creative Writing Laboratory kicking off on November 2nd for six weeks in Corsham. This lines up nicely with National Novel Writing Month the annual tortu…I mean annual inspirational event that sees thousands of writers around the world attempting to keep up a rigorous 1600 daily word count all through November all aspiring to slough off the first skin of a novel.  If you fancy a writing challenge that has the potential to set you up with the bones of a book here is the link to sign up!

And yes, I am still dog-less and still missing Grace so much it is sometimes hard to breathe but worry not as my  new undergraduate students and the imminent  CW Lab is keeping me upbeat and alert!  In fact, I found a poem I wrote a while ago in response to an annoying advert from the milk marketing people (featuring milk ‘moustaches’ on various celebs.) Given we are in the run-up to Halloween, I thought you might enjoy it!

A joke cook's apron hangs from a peg. It has too large pink nippled rubber breasts protruding from the top.

My Dad’s comedy apron. (It was soon banished to a hidden cupboard much to his chagrin.)


Got Milk?

Only blood and water
Plasma and piss

But boiling and bubbling
and coiling and spluttering
Souped up gizmo
I should coco
Whole new mojo


Give it to the babies
And Witches’ tit me,



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