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.
