It isn’t (and shouldn’t) always be the case that the participants at a poetry reading should mesh but on occasions, like last night’s Blue Bus reading, the result was eminently satisfying. Tom Lowenstein (top) read new work; a kind of reinvention of Coleridge’s prose writings. Martin Anderson (centre) read poems from last year’s book Belonging and in the second half sections from the soon to be published continuation of The Hoplite Journals. Anthony Rudolf (bottom) read mostly recent work including transcriptions from the English of his East End Jewish grandfather shaded with the wit of a Reznikoff. The Lamb, like many other pubs, has been attempting to shape up to an ideal that might not necessarily satisfy its present clientele. They have installed plush curtains and a flat-screen TV upstairs and a very solid looking wooden table that would probably be more at home in a council chamber than in a pub. This feature in particular determined the seating arrangements of the whole room. All that was missing was an order restoring gavel.