‘Andy Croft helps to keep us cheerful.’
Sticky is a book of poems about an age of imperial slaughter already sticky with blood and lies. Sticks and stones may break our bones, but depleted uranium really hurts us.
Sticky is a book about the stuck and the sticky, the straight and the crooked. Armed with only a pile of spooky sticks and a sticky file of spooks, Andy Croft sets off in search of the Land of Righteousness. He gets the wrong end of the stick in Vulgaria and finds himself in a sticky situation in Mudfog. When he meets the ghosts of Brecht, Bunyan and Baron Munchausen by the banks of the river Styx he realizes he can’t stick it any more. This is poetry for the pessimistick.
‘Wit and brio.’ The Guardian
‘The unofficial poet laureate of the North.’ Northern Echo
‘His Englishness resides in working-class and local concerns, unselfconscious while being consciously part of a Shelleyan political tradition.’ The North