I chanced to see Old English verse in paragraphs like prose, obsolete characters redolent of atmospheres we are no longer encouraged to admit. An ancient tradition, reaching beyond us into new forms, frames what we might hand over or betray. "The status of the Underground as an 'imagined village' where everybody knows each other has brought about stability - and compromised the forward dynamic written into its charter. This describes, at least vaguely, the role of the malcontent. No-one is more malcontent than Jordan. . . . To speak seriously of 'hegemony' challenges the warm identification between writer and reader which is the attraction of poetry for so many readers. It launches a critique of participation." -Andrew Duncan, A Poetry Boom 1990-2010 Must we conform to the current state of poesy, and thus trade in cosy arrangements, or might we say instead that now the truth of poetry is vital and endangered? When the answer to that question is in doubt, the time has come to find a Trusty Servant.