Description
The poet is itchy: there’s a nagging irritation that will not be satisfied no matter how much Neikirk writes it out. Through wandering trains of nightly thoughts, uncomfortable real-life situations, and the haunting words and philosophies of the Romantics, we are taken on a journey of hard truths and uneasy revelations; an unsteady reiteration of Neikirk’s own experience that stirs an itchiness in the reader. Could this simply require a change of washing detergent, or will the itch persist…?
