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Features

What I’ve learned reciting poems in the street

The British public’s taste is changing rapidly. And the most poetic people aren’t the ones you’d expect

2 April 2016

9:00 AM

2 April 2016

9:00 AM

It was past midnight in Norwich. There was a keen wind rifling up London Street. It was dark and it was January. I was hoarse, my feet hurt and, more to the point, I was cold. I had been punishing myself for four-and-a-half hours reciting poems by Eliot, Larkin, Wordsworth and Whitman.

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Gary Dexter used to write The Spectator’s ‘Alternative reading’ column. He recites at weddings, and also offers flute lessons: see garydexter.co.uk.

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