Andrew Lawson

Biography

Andrew is a Manchester based performance poet and writer of obscure radio drama. He graduated from Salford University where he studied English and Creative Writing. His writing veers towards the more surreal elements of life. He has a (completely healthy) obsession with TV Drama The L Word and tends to think of fictional characters as though they are his real, absent friends. Since mid-2013 Andrew has been performing extensively at open mic nights across Manchester and Yorkshire. He has performed guest slots at various events including Write Out Loud in Sale, Stirred Feminist Poetry, Spoken Weird and others. In 2014 he performed his poetry at festivals including Rebellion Punk Festival in Blackpool and Storytime at the Antwerp Mansion. He is a founder and co-host of the spoken word night Transdimensional Space Goats, which runs every 2nd Sunday of the month @ Taurus Bar. He has an identical twin brother who is a lecherous drunk.

Samples

"If You’re Going Manic, Take Me With You." A five-high mountain of tired digestives perched precariously over the curry-stained washing-up bowl reflecting out Phil Collins’ Greatest Hits sits at odds with my apathy drinks bliss from my lips shakes festival stubble from my cheeks rendering me interview-fresh for a life filled with artificially lit days and nights out in Wetherspoons The biscuits stick cemented, discontented at the thought of a life compartmentalised I was sold a sugar vision, sweet and somehow separate it sang to me of a kaleidoscope calendar got me funeral-drunk on synthetic cider which sun-drenched soaked through my bank account left me hungover, wandering through crisis corridors straining to hear that delicious jam again the strawberry sounds I lost my mind for Our eyes met across a shadowy situation and our faces danced with each other I showered you with platitudes and you spilt beer on your chest hair You said I made you feel like a person, I should have left then I should have ran when you told me you didn’t know who Kurt Cobain was When I told you he was the Irish one from Westlife and you believed me I should have emigrated "Green Lights and Broken Toys." Running away green lights come easy to me “I wish you’d stay” said the purple hair Somewhere a face beneath minion inspired goggles and a cat under a bench in Hazel Grove that turned out to be a broken teddy bear “You can touch the cat, you know” suggests a child But who wants to play with a broken toy? Today I run from friends and minions into the dark of Harness clad bars and finger puppet fantasies Bits of my face are flaking off to reveal a wider smile because without facial tissue our grins are just clenched joke shop chattering toys and who wants to play with a broken toy? Bromance inflated invitations bounce off the walls of my instant messaging applications like the letters D – V – D Changing colour in a gadget shop whirlwind of digital sadness Ben’s having a bonfire in the woods Wolfy would like you to text her Tracy’s mobile number Michelle’s drinking with Jay and The Handsome Moral Relativist awaits your never-coming phone call Meanwhile I scribble standing on a train in Windsmoor lacking both signal and the conviction to press “Send”

All poems are copyright of the originating author. Permission must be obtained before using or performing others' poems.