I always have a book of poetry I am working my way through, reading one poem (or perhaps just part of a poem) a day.
I have just finished The Burning Perch by Louis MacNeice.
On the whole I found his work a bit bleak.
Memoranda to Horace and Charon and Réchauffé.
Funnily enough, at the same time I was reading Louis MacNeice I came across a reference to him in Simon Raven's Feathers of Death. This tells you all you need to know about the sort of people who read this poet. Lefty, cosmopolitan (we would say multicultural), sexually er... ambiguous.
At the same time as I am writing this blogpost I am listening and half-watching the excellent documentary on BBC Four about Ivor Gurney.