I am not Northern enough to be a radio poet,
not a Hegley, a McMillan, or a Normal kinda bloke.
I am not street enough to holler as a slam artist,
not a Sia, Poppa E., or even Kate Tempest.
I am not black enough to rhyme with the best,
not MC Drake, nor a Kanye West.
I am not angry, outraged, able to bark,
like Attila the Stockbroker, or John Cooper Clarke.
I am, Attila said, ‘the opposite side of poetry’ –
in which case I’ll exult in my quiet dignity.