The Three Ps, again

I have, I know, used spaces on this blog already to sing the praises of the poetry collective Poets, Prattlers and Pandemonialists. During the pandemic they did astonishing work to sustain the poetry community, organising readings and workshops. They have huge energy and good humour, encourage a wide variety of clientele from experienced poets to total newcomers, familiar friends to absolute strangers. And all this with ferocious modesty, never grabbing the odd five minute slot to promote their own work..

So on Saturday it was a rare treat to sit in the Arena Theatre, as part of the lucky audience for “Whose Round is It, anyway”. Their post-lockdown show features set-piece performed poems, knitted together with commentary and creative banter. The whole thing is a celebration of pubs and friendship, of jokes and intelligent writing, and it’s full of wit, warmth and life, all of which have suffered from the combined threat of covid and incompetent government.

They’ve taken this show on tour, but here they were back on home ground, in the Black Country, with friends and fans who knew exactly what was coming, and couldn’t wait. We were so lucky to be there, and yet again we’re in their debt. So thanks Steve, Emma and Dave - please keep doing what you do.