The only way to do the human rights thing is to do the right thing medically.
I get up at 5.30am, sluice myself and have two Weetabix and some mint tea, before starting to write by 6am.
I feel it’s part of my job to make the problems of the poor compelling.
I read ‘Treasure Island’ for the first time at university. And I started to notice then how unresolved some things were. Later, I realised that Stevenson was interested in sequels, and I wondered whether he would have gone back to it had he lived longer.
I’m also a great believer in the dream life; that while we’re asleep, a deep subconscious connection is made about our profoundest fears, hopes, loves, losses, dreads and desires.
Now I believe I can hear the philosophers protesting that it can only be misery to live in folly, illusion, deception and ignorance, but it isn’t -it’s human.
The desire to write grows with writing.
It is clear that the pharmaceutical industry is not, by any stretch of the imagination, doing enough to ensure that the poor have access to adequate medical care.
I shall try to write a poem that is about the moment but doesn’t betray things that are true to me as a poet.
The tocsin you hear today is not an alarm but an alert: it sounds the charge against our enemies.