The Lonely Poet (or: The Pleonasm)
  • Edinburgh Fringe

Everybody thinks that I'm lonely. Lonely because I spent the last seven years of my life in the basement of my grandfather's house. Lonely because they think that I refuse to talk to anyone. Lonely because I run away when the postman arrives. But mainly because they all think that loneliness must be something that runs through my family and therefore through my blood and my veins and everything. Or something like that. But boy, are they wrong. So f*cking wrong. Solo show (well, kind of). Poetry. Theatre. You. Yeah you. You, you, you.

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