Manchester
Fringe

There's nothing worse than a navel-gazing poet. After all, who wants to spend a whole hour in the company of a wordsmith who is utterly obsessed with omphaloskepsis?

Which is why Paul Jenkins is only giving you that 50% of the time. He thinks. It's hard to tell. I mean, where does the poet stop and the characters start? How are we to distinuguish the art-farty word nonsense from the truth of the matter?

Lots of rhetorical questions. Relatively few concrete anawers. But at least we'll laugh, we'll think and we may even learn something together along the way. Maybe.