Kevin Morris writes from familiar, everyday situations in rhyme-led, usually short verses, e.g. in “Dog and Ball” which ends,

“My introspection.
How can I suffer dejection
When I recollect your playful snort
And the ball you caught?”

He poses questions about his readers, in “Composed More or Less in Real-time While Sitting in a Liverpool Garden”

“The wind has dropped now,
And I wonder how
My poem will be understood
By those who would
Try
To find meaning in words that erratically fly
From one who sits listening to a barking dog, who cares not
A jot
For what
I have to say
On this sunny, wind swept day.”

Does Kevin Morris have something to say? There is a small group of poems which touch on the subject of prostitution provoked by a newspaper article that argues that sex workers should not be criminalised but those who pay for the…