My future was described to me in detail by a brisk man, in a town famous for making carpets
“You’re Ian McMillan!” he says, his finger jabbing the air between me and him. I nod. “You’re a poet!” he says. His voice is rising a little.
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Ian McMillan
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In search of feral apples and underground men
My village, just outside Barnsley on the A635, used to supply the workers for lots of coal mines: Darfield…
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