He loved poetry. No, that’s not quite right, he loved words. He loved what they could do, the effects they had but, more importantly, the pictures they painted. Some of them may have been a bit er… right wing, but he loved the Imagists and their manifesto pledge to “render particulars exactly”. He loved Haiku and its power to take tightly controlled language and let it open into a vista, a world in the mind of the reader. He played with words. A toolkit so simple yet so power full. He spoke into the microphone and watched the world appear.