Author(s): Roger McGough
The hamburger flipped across the face of the bun The Frisbee winning the race against its own shadow The cricket ball dropping for six in front of the church clock On a golden plate, a host of communion wafers The brown contact lens sliding across the blue iris The palming of small change Everyday eclipses. Whether shamelessly offering advice to Bob Dylan or dicing with death in the Alps, Roger McGough's new poems are as vigorous, as funny and as eye-opening as his very best. On the lightning of chance and the threat of violence, killer ducks and alien moths, he brings his unique linguistic pyrotechnics to bear. It is, though, the exuberance and range of his imagination that marks McGough out, as he continues to uncover the universal in the everyday.
Roger McGough will be 65 in the autumn 2002, an event to be celebrated at the Edinburgh Festival where he is making his 40th consecutive appearance. He was awarded an OBE in 1997, and in 2001 was honoured with the Freedom of the City of Liverpool. He lives in Barnes, south London.