Howling at the Moon

Howling at the Moon is a singular work, a hunger-ballad spanning several hundred lines and changing direction like a jack-rabbit. At one moment the verse is sturdy, like a thigh, at the next mercurial; wispish as the thrill of new love. The author has described the work as a poem "that just wouldn't stop bloody going" but at its core the book is an exploration of what people can't say, and what a howl can.