About Us

Cath Attar - Editor in Chief
Our glorious leader firmly believes in the old traditions of being an Editor-in-Chief, mainly that of inebriation. Schooled at the Duke of Edinburgh and the Boleyn in Green Street, she has downed her specialist subjects of gin and vodka with funding from our petty cash and the Collective's poetry earnings. Noted for her nasty furry tongue. Email Cath Attar.

Hoodie at the Gallery

Dick and Tom
Our very own resident cartoon super heroes. As trained investigators these guys will be irrelevantly probing totally irrelevant topics as well as offering advice and tips to aspiring poets. Dick is a self-appointed poetry genius and lists his other occupations as: wine, women and cartoon drugs. Tom is into folding socks and counting. Qualifications include an ASBO from both WB and MGM as well as being excommunicated from Disney. Email Dick and Tom.

iDrew
Pushcart Prize nominee Drew currently holds a MdMa in clubbing and a Mastercard for shopping. Her work focusses on life, love, and shoes in her particularly charming Essex girl manner. A former holder of Southend's Miss Wet T-shirt prize for breast slogans she lays claim to being the catalyst for the Slut Poetry Movement. Even though she's well fit, her poetry has been banned from various boring places. Looks like an angel, but is a right little miss minx. Email iDrew.

Armed with words

facebookicon P.A.Levy
Dyslexic, crippled, Cockney geezer expelled from school and sacked from numerous dead end jobs. Holds a grade C in English Lit A-Level obtained at Southend Community Adult Education Centre and a criminal record. Like Drew, he’s a Pushcart Prize nominee, but says his claim to fame is being an optimistic West Ham fan, although we are inclined to believe that his optimism is just a symptom of being a dopehead. Had hoped to qualify for the 2012 paralympic 200m poetry slam, but forgot to get out of bed for the qualifying rounds. Email P.A.Levy.

Charlotte DeAth
To date, the only one of us that could be bothered to have a chapbook published. Charlotte spends a good deal of her time handling the day to day admin work as Cath is usually too pissed. She has also published under the name of Charlotte Ghost, but then again so has P.A.Levy and Drew. Confused. We couldn't give a toss. Email Charlotte DeAth.

Terry Wrist
Self exploding syntax guerilla. Not much is known about our Terry, keeps himself to himself as if he’s in some kind of poetry sleeper cell just waiting for the right time to arm his couplets. Email Terry Wrist.

Ben Nitt
Ben is a foreign gentleman, well he’s northern, but we’re still very pleased he’s decided to join us and set up a Poetry Surgery. He’ll be dissecting, circumcising and generally conducting cruel and, in many countries, illegal experiments on yours, and our poems for his perverse pleasure and enjoyment. And we love him for that. Email Ben Nitt.

Mankie the Cat
The office has obtained a stray, smelly cat. Charlotte seems determined she can teach it to read and write, in spite of the opposing thumb problem, and to be honest, anything that keeps Charlotte happy is OK with the rest of us. Moody cow. Anyway, it’s good to have a furry duster around the place. No one ever does any housework or cleaning. It’s a disgrace.

Clueless Manifesto