Before his premature death in June 2012, some of Tom Duddy’s finest poems came into existence. As he grappled with mortality, ‘exactitude’ in writing brought him discipline, illumination and hope.
For the reader, the legacy is unique. The story-teller and magician feels his own end approaching – yet he is arrested by the miracle of the living moment, ‘unable / to do anything but marvel’.
Tom was one of HappenStance’s first pamphlet poets. His debut chapbook, In the Small Hours, was published in 2006. This was followed by The Hiding Place from Arlen House in 2011.
The quality of the paper and production of this hard backed edition of his second, poshthumous collection is intended as a tribute. HappenStance is unlikely ever to publish poetry better than this.
Reviews of the book online:
Poor Rude Lines (John Field)
I'm a serious journalist, you know (Sarah Gonnet)
Antiphon (Noel Williams)
Rogue Strands (Matthew Stewart)
Sometimes, when she and I find ourselves
seated just inside the door of the hotel bar,
two or three young women will come prancing in,
all innocence, high-booted glamour and
dark-eyed casting about, and she must wonder
out of the corner of her eye if I may not be
taking in too much. If she only knew
what a heavenly and carnal peace I feel
as my thoughts withdraw from the bare,
emblazoned backs and sweep down towards
her dear pale hands at rest in her lap, one
cupped inside the other, palm resting open.