“Russell Square Station: mine the trash”

I bet you after he did what he did
And let me off at Russell Square Station
Put his sunglasses on, went looking for some breakfast, said:
“Well, that sure will give the girl something to write about, then.”


Read/Listen to samples here.

Russell Square Station: mine the trash is a collection of spoken-word poetry confessing one woman’s journey through a sexual landscape of London, England. So, it’s a fierce book. And who are we kidding – the author is a Canadian lightweight. Russell Square Station spills the nitty gritty of a fated one-night stand with an irascible rockstar from the author’s 2001 book, Hoxton Square Circles: starfucking tales of sexless one-night stands, for whom Hill rapped, “Stand a little closer, yeah, light my cigarette / If this were Ottawa (Canada), I’d take you home in a sec.”

Reunited more than a decade later, the bedsit becomes British. Exploring through feverish expression and raw recollection, Russell Square Station unravels what happens when you [m]use a man trans-Atlantic over the Internet, cross-over to dance with the devil, and live to tell the tale. And there are a couple of poems about demonic cosmopolitan culture that equally rape. The brilliant art of Juan Carlos Noria (aka dixon) is paired with the poems and describes visually the stories of how we trip and fall into crap. The lesson being, to mine the trash.

Shy of being one woman’s testimonial of sexual naivety and penis envy, Russell Square Station, taking its name from the academic and literary Bloomsbury borough of Camden in Central London, UK, is exactly that. A study of one male Muse through her story, Sylvie Hill’s works address the lure toward explosive destinations fuelled by alcohol, and people who come and go, talking of noodles in Soho. God willing, you may relate to the hustle of the hop on, get off and a move on.

Sylvie Hill