Low life | 23 April 2015

I’m such a constitutional lightweight lately that I’ve started looking on the website What’s On in South Devon for things to do of an evening that don’t involve total annihilation. What’s On in South Devon is surely one of those ‘shortest book in the world’ contenders. Weeknights it’s mainly the same local musicians playing the same deserted pubs; or some functioning psychotic preaching new-age nonsense in a church hall to folk whose gullibility gives one a rough idea of the infinite; or bingo. Listening to functioning psychotics in church halls is fun at first, but soon palls. I’d go to bingo if I didn’t already own a life-sized ceramic cheetah. Which usually leaves Receding Diagonal at the Turk’s Head or bloody Silhouette at the Feathers.

An unexpected listing for a poetry group discussing ‘the Sonnet’ on Tuesday leapt out at me, therefore, as a night out without the prospect of a maiming hangover.