Sleepwalking,
a skinned rabbit, litter, a Chinese play, and an Irish alchemist are
just some of the subjects of David Wheatley's first book. Containing
poems of childhood, travel, rural and, in particular, urban experience,
Thirst submits the familiar and the strange alike to the workings
of an enquiring, restless sensibility. A distinctive and formally
assured debut, the collection is ultimately unified — as its title
suggests — by a thirst for experience in all its richness and variety.
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