Cities exist inside as well as outside us. They are, not just buildings and people, but histories, ideas, stories and mythologies, both shared and private. Cities, like recordings (and like writing itself), are repositories of memory and knowledge. These poems, written in roughly the period since the Crash, use humour, linguistic experimentation and wide-ranging cultural icons to explore both global breakdown and personal crisis. Every city, constantly rebuilding, breaks its previous self underneath.

Cities exist inside as well as outside us. They are, not just buildings and people, but histories, ideas, stories and mythologies, both shared and private. Cities, like recordings (and like writing itself), are repositories of memory and knowledge. These poems, written in roughly the period since the Crash, use humour, linguistic experimentation and wide-ranging cultural icons to explore both global breakdown and personal crisis. Every city, constantly rebuilding, breaks its previous self underneath.

Cities exist inside as well as outside us. They are, not just buildings and people, but histories, ideas, stories and mythologies, both shared and private. Cities, like recordings (and like writing itself), are repositories of memory and knowledge. These poems, written in roughly the period since the Crash, use humour, linguistic experimentation and wide-ranging cultural icons to explore both global breakdown and personal crisis. Every city, constantly rebuilding, breaks its previous self underneath.