A good poetry reading depends on atmosphere, setting, and refreshments. And all of these boxes were satisfactorily ticked by the first Foule Readings of term. It started half an hour later than advertised and the free wine had run out by the time we reached the half-time interval, but these were small glitches in an otherwise well-organised evening. And there was free wine in the first place! So I can’t moan. The Nihon Room, in Pembroke – despite a carpet patterned like a yellow cow – was perfect for this sort of gathering: intimate, interestingly decorated and, importantly, packed.

But a reading series is bound to change as the poets do. This time Andrea Brady, John DeWitt and Lisa Jeschke were a mixed bag.  Don’t get me wrong, they are all incredible poets, but a poetry reading has to justify itself as preferable to private reading. It is a dramatic form. Andrea Brady spoke about her children and insomnia, adding an extra dimension to her poems; she was clear and expressive. But John DeWitt was not as able to keep his audience from fidgeting. Opening with the grand statement that he wasn’t reading from his first collection, Ends, because he didn’t know how, I expected him to at least be able to read the poems he supposedly could. Yet he was monotonous and hesitant. He seemed nervous, which I can hardly blame him for, but that’s not the point: some poets seem unable to read their own work, and I fear DeWitt is one of them. Fortunately, however, Lisa Jeschke counteracted all bad things. In a 24 part poem, Jescke sang, spoke, read and, equally, knew the value of silence. It was a performance poem, performed by a performance writer in a setting which demands performance. She was perfect.

The next Foule Reading will take place on March 16th.