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Bycatch
In Bycatch, a new collection by the Ted Hughes Prize shortlisted-poet Caroline Smith, the poems ask where personhood is when memory and language are gone. They capture the faltering years of a life gradually scraped bare by the deep-sea trawler of dementia – yet find amongst the isolation and sadness, moments also of clarity, epiphany and love.
Whilst these poems chart deep waters, they remind us also of the enduring and miraculous bond between those who have known each other for a lifetime. With grace and often with humour, Smith unravels the intricate nature of care, the symbiosis of family, and ultimately the sense of self held in the memories and personal histories of her own parents. It is in the swell of the wave, as ageing and loss threaten to engulf even the words, these extraordinary poems remain tender, unforgettable and salt-sharp.
Whilst these poems chart deep waters, they remind us also of the enduring and miraculous bond between those who have known each other for a lifetime. With grace and often with humour, Smith unravels the intricate nature of care, the symbiosis of family, and ultimately the sense of self held in the memories and personal histories of her own parents. It is in the swell of the wave, as ageing and loss threaten to engulf even the words, these extraordinary poems remain tender, unforgettable and salt-sharp.
115 pages, Kindle Edition
Published October 9, 2025
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Displaying 1 of 1 review
May 23, 2026
Touching, observant and moving - such power and emotion conveyed in so few lines. Thoroughly excellent.
I particularly liked the poem "Last Vaudeville" and this is a fragment from it:
the landscape is still and serene.
Just waders stalking the estuary shoreline
prodding and stuttering the mud.
Geese are hawking from distant fields
as a whine of swans’ wings
grinds overhead like some creaking stage
machinery wound with old handles.
I particularly liked the poem "Last Vaudeville" and this is a fragment from it:
the landscape is still and serene.
Just waders stalking the estuary shoreline
prodding and stuttering the mud.
Geese are hawking from distant fields
as a whine of swans’ wings
grinds overhead like some creaking stage
machinery wound with old handles.
Displaying 1 of 1 review