A family photo-album in shining, ember-like prose poems from the burning house at the end of the street. Between the flames an abused abode where a path home may be found only in the journey through the ashes towards the forbidden feminine element.

Hold a mirror up inside my heart and you will find the words of this collection gathering. As writers we often say this is the book I have needed to write my whole life, well this is the book I have been waiting to read. The boy who lives racking lines up in my brain was reminded why he walked away from the table and told it was ok that he sat down in the first place. It is often difficult to be accomplished and raw and honest at the same time as a writer. This work by Miggy Angel does that and more. “this is how love starts. Like smoking, masturbation, or murder, it’s just something to do with your hands” - it’s funny after reading this I feel more still than I have in a long time my hands gently lying by my side my heart slowing to a comfortable rhythm. - Jake Wild Hall

A collection of transparency, time-warping meditations on surviving the brutality of living and loving, through the eyes of someone living with addiction. Each vignette offers a window into a different room of the speaker’s body-home, untethering the reader and the speaker from set narratives, from attachments to who/what we hope might save us. This untethering, the pain of ligaments stretching beyond comprehension, reveals surprising revelations, so that the depths of our understanding of love - in what can feel like a love-less world - may begin right within ourselves. - Nafeesa Hamed

Memory as a house on fire. In Tarkovsky’s Mirror, a young poet’s mother watches their family barn burn to the ground. Miggy Angel finds similarly incandescent images in the flickering pages of Graffiti On A Burning House. Navigating addiction and mental health, Angel traces the life of a young boy through otherworldly images: a cigarette’s ochre glow, the dumb blossom of heroin. Reminiscent of Ágota Kristóf’s The Notebook, the family home becomes a fable of poetic horror; the first tremble of violence. Lost dreams of escape in an England at war with itself. Haunting and visceral, the embers of Angel’s images burn and linger. A blazing pyre, an exorcism, a chance to finally live. The fire is a mirror. - Matthew Kinlin

Miggy Angel conjures a nightmarish vision of an Albion Gehenna of such terrible beauty, his descriptions of ecstatic horror and pain burst in Divine Madness from the page and ignite. A book to tag your vision and set your mind on fire. - Rob True

80pp