Jo Dixon’s … fine pamphlet comprises enigmatic narratives. The narratives range from one about a neonate intensive care unit (‘NICU’), to Flo’s last day at the shop, via a cod-interview with someone who seems to be an American tribal shaman. Dixon manages the difficult trick of so getting inside the perspective of the narrator, that we see them looking out. One such is the narrator in ‘Dead Ringers’, who is ‘waiting at the lights’ when he sees a clearly drunken women outside a pub, ‘And she’ll be wearing/ the same boozy perfume/ that once seeped/ from the bedsheets as he/ tucked them around his wife.// The flatbed in front pulls away.’ What’s noticeable here is Dixon’s ability not only with the plain, but quietly rhythmic language, but her deft way with line-breaks. All of which couches a neatly unfolding fiction.

from Manchester Review

Jo has read at the bookshop many times