Cowboy

The poems in Cowboy are knowing, millennial, internet-sick, and funny, with deep undercurrents: of embodied and disembodied spiritualities; of the knowledge of animals; of familial mythologies; of grief and longing; of autism and navigating diagnoses; of early and enduring disappointment; of the wildness underneath the smooth glass-and-chrome surfaces of contemporary life.

The echo of a question permeates the collection: where does a person grow up? It moves restlessly between rural Wales, London, and the American South; between the esoteric spaces of the internet; between the artlessness of childhood and adolescence transfigured inexplicably into a disquieting adulthood, with its attendant weirdness of rent-paying, cohabiting, the churn of mindless work, and alienation.

The generous abundance of Cowboy's references—memes, early noughties television shows, pop songs, cities and their suburbs, video games—bring anxiety and pressure, joy and glory to this singularly impressive debut.