Thomas Stewart’s splendid, cinematic poems distil the detritus of late desire—thievery, stain remover, Grindr, a wild oak, satire—into one universal quandary: “to fuck or fight.” Knowingly, dryly, he reveals the bloodless truth. This is the right book for our transactional age.
Randall Mann
At the heart of this compelling pamphlet lies a sequence of Grindr poems which linger in the mind long after reading due to their vulnerability and crystalline clarity. Here are intelligent and deeply felt poems which continually surprise.
Richard Scott
Brave and brilliant: Thomas Stewart is a name to watch.
Claire Askew
Taking his cue from pop culture titans and classics - Death Becomes Her, First Wive’s Club, Friends to name a few - Thomas Stewart writes poems that look at the complexities of modern queer lives and how cinema and TV can help heal, empower or, in some cases, shame. Pop culture, Stewart argues, is formative to our identities.
Based on a True Story also include Stewart’s Grindr poems, which take a nuanced look at sex in the modern transactional age, exploring desire, lust, the need for validation through a authentic lens devoid of judgement.
A collection of gorgeously vulnerable, deep and intelligent poems that will stay with me a long time after reading. The Grindr poems, Mrs Doubtfire, Sister Act, You've Got Mail and Corinna, Corinna were some particular favourites. Would definitely recommend, especially to people who live a good ol poem!
“Sometimes, it’s the texture of a film”. As a pop-culture-in-poetry fanatic, and a raging queer, Thomas Stewart’s poetry pamphlet Based on a True Story was made, it feels, specifically with me in mind. The films and TV shows referenced throughout are varied, fun, campy, unexpected: Point Break to The First Wives Club, Calamity Jane to Chitty Chitty Bang Bang, Desperate Housewives, Friends, The Wizard of Oz, Capote, Practical Magic and Sabrina the Teenage Witch, Snow White & The Seven Dwarfs, Mrs Doubtfire, Death Becomes Her, You’ve Got Mail, Sister Act. There’s the gay panic and casual homophobia in ‘Friends’; the declaration that “Mrs Doubtfire is language mother earth”; the gorgeous familial love in closing poem ‘Sister Act’. There’s also a series of Grindr poems in the middle, preceded by the too well titled ‘look me in the eyes when we’re fucking’, sad and sensual, “giving love like a bird might offer scraps”. ‘Cardiff Grindr, 2013’ declares “My anonymity is my authority”, while ‘Cardiff Grindr, 2015 (or fuck)’ is staggeringly relatable: “I am so obliterated I am a cliché. Like a chandelier fallen.” Yep! And ‘Edinburgh Grindr, 2016 (or story thief)’ is another personal attack: “as I hold your waist I think / of the poem / I’ll write one day / about you”. Then there’s opener ‘gay film’, whose final lines prompted the most humourless laugh I’ve ever uttered: “a gay film skins me and some straight boy wearing it / gets given an award / for being brave”. I loved, in the Snow White poem, “call me your fan boy, with a gown made of carpets”, and this brilliant, vivid construction in ‘Point Break’: “jumped out of planes / to fuck the gods’ mouths”.