Alan Stubbs’s poetry . . . comes searing off the page: restless, energetic, uncomfortable and discomforting like a call to poetic arms.
—Fiona Sampson (multi-award-winning poet & writer, former ed. of poetry Review)
These are poems unbound by a restrictive ‘British’ poetry: they are not latter-day copies of icons; they are fully cognisant of contemporary world poetry. These poems carry with them the heat of recognition and the eeriness of dream. That light comes. That a door opens. That we are included within the mercurial secrecy of observation, but only for a second—like a painting done wholly with a drying brush: suggestive of the universe, in every brushstroke. We are left the weight of reflection. These reflections are pulled out of you—and these poems are aware that human reflection is frequently contradictory and always fascinating as a result.
—Andy Hopkins (poet & editor in Carlisle)
There is not a dull word, image, metaphor or moment in TUGBOAT. Every poem expresses an invisible sensorial language of being, shared between all objects in nature and the imagination. A must read for any serious adventurer of the word or explorer of realist poetic narratives drenched in vibrant colors, sounds, tastes and scents. A necessary tune-up for your senses and creativity.
—Malik Ameer Crumpler (poet, editor, curator, rapper based in Paris)