What Looby and Delaney know is light
is just a one of God's Own moods and that
is easily learned. Come let us pay our each
convivial ransom somewhere welcome-warm
and talk about the sun. I saw a storm
riding on its moon-washed clouds reach
the steeple-clock: but there was time. I sat
and watched the hail miss past me, and the night.
 

from `Turbulent Tipp: Goodfridaynight'
           

Grrrrr is the sound of our lives winding themselves up; the sound of our mechanisms continuing the search for Something Wonderful, wherever it may be. It is a weird and comic volume with, at its heart, a huge poem called `Redness' (a kind of antipodean Faust), and two Turkish tales of lust, treachery, violence, treachery, murder, treachery and a stolen minaret.

The remaining twelve poems feature Sir Richard Burton discovering what is not new, camels; Tipperary at Easter; Samarkand; a tourist enjoying significance in the wrong place; the necessity of being mad; T.E.Lawrence; insomnia; the dead Fellini; a shoe shop arson; and the diary of a winter in Diyarbakir, a true and personal account.

These poems are narratives that redefine narrative: from Tanganyika to Tillo, from Ravenna to Rotorua, by bicycle and by camel, the journey continues, to somewhere surely better, if only we could recognise it.