Librería Samer Atenea
Librería Aciertas (Toledo)
Kálamo Books
Librería Perelló (Valencia)
Librería Elías (Asturias)
Donde los libros
Librería Kolima (Madrid)
Librería Proteo (Málaga)
John Morris, otherwise known as Mogs, has lived in The Black Country all his life. He is an amazing blind poet and stage performer and this is his fourth collection, following on from a set of verses written in the Black Country dialect. 'Johnny ’Mogs’ Morris is a familiar and much loved face on the Black Country poetry scene, raising more than a chuckle or three from audiences by way of his rhyming verse. In his latest collection he’s exploring the ageing process in his own indomitable style. Fans (and there are lots of them) of the Mogs’ take on life will not be disappointed by his latest offering.'Emma Pursehouse (Former Poet Laureate of City of Wolverhampton) From the pen of the most self-deprecating man of the Midlands comes another corker of an anthology of verse. A homage to the plight of aging disgracefully, which is what we all should aim for. Nice one John.Julie Jukes I have read everything that ’Mogs’ has published to-date. Most of his work is aimed at a younger audience but is always funny. The laughs have continued, in this work, but this time he has successfully identified with older people in a painfully accurate way. His uncanny sense of rhythm has enhanced each work. Mogs has rapidly become my favorite poet.Phil ReevesMogs’s offerings are a joy. Brilliant and unpretentious. His poetry is intelligent, clever, thought provoking, heartwarming and hilarious.Chris Pyff Bus pass poetry taken to new heights. Delightfully charming.Henrik Pyff In his latest book, Mogs (25 years old, tough paper round) shares his thoughts on the issues that accompany increasing age. Poems for the Old Uns is packed with the trademark wry humour he brings to poetry evenings across the West Midlands, and will raise a smile or three with anyone who’s ever trudged to the toilet in the middle of the night wondering how they lost their hair and where on earth they’ve left their glasses.Steve Pottinger (Poets, Prattlers, and Pandemonialists)
