<p>The slack-tide is the worst, curled on my side<br>I cup a conch to one ear, as if, I may hear<br>a cough of men washing up on the shore.<br>Angela Readman's The Book of Tides is treasure trove of luscious, visceral poems that are delightfully risky, utterly thrilling and always close to the bone. Readman's poetry teems with the rare and beautiful, the dark seaweed sparkle of a particular strand of skewed folklore; here we encounter fishermen a...