Questo autore esplora l'esistenza contemporanea con una miscela unica di umorismo e introspezione. Le sue opere toccano spesso argomenti banali, ma rivelano strati più profondi di assurdità e umanità. Con un senso della lingua e del ritmo, crea pezzi che sono sia divertenti che toccanti.
Key’s last book saw him stuffed up the a in Lockdown One. This new book takes place in Lockdown Three. This time Key can make Government-sanctioned expeditions out onto the streets of London (remember?). And it is there that the inaction takes place. Phone calls to his mother, promenades with his loyal friend, bubble-negotiations, sitting his fat arse down on benches, drinking mocha. Another three months of mind-freezing inertia. This time on the move. Conversations interspersed with poetry.
In March, Tim Key got locked down, found an orange pen and started writing poems. Then he started writing down his conversations. Zoom, phone, yelled heart-to-hearts from kitchen window to pavement. This book is the result. A paperback account of one man’s experience of the most peculiar moment in our recent history.
This is Key's most comprehensive collection of poeticals put together to date. The sheer weight of the book is testament to this comprehensivality. Of course it is lighter than something like a Braun fridge or a fat guy. But as a book, you will note, it's of a nice weight. It's full of poems by Key (award-winning) primarily about love, sex, dreams, death, and fruit (strawberries, beans, etc). The publishing of the book in no way ties in with things like "demand" or "clamor" but is more a result of Key having a full English breakfast with the right person at the right time. Key is not the sort of person to take offense if you don't buy his book but instead replace it on its shelf or lazily slot it between a couple of DBC Pierres or dump it by a pot plant next to the till. Key's just happy that someone has bothered to touch it. That is enough for Key (Newswipe).
Tim Key got ants in his pants and has written an anthology of poetry. It is his least ambitious project to date. A slim book of the crap he’s been churning out over the past eighteen months. Poems about men getting stuck in webs, poems about the ancient city of Canterbury, poems about canoodling with a rose. A prolific sod, he’s selected ninety of his trademark vignettes and packed them off to Emily Juniper for her to fling onto pages and shape into a book. Discussions ensued about what, if anything, the point of it all was, and a healthy debate as to whether it should be broken up into chapters and, if so, why. All of these discussions are documented in the leftover space around the poems. The result is a splurge of words which very occasionally shine a light on modern times. It is the third book Tim and Emily have generated together.