In Food the multi-talented and endlessly inventive Peter Finch keenly observes the dark forces that afflict us and then relentlessly skewers them with a quick wit, or twists form to give alternative versions, inflicting a random beauty on the stale or predictable.

He fearlessly lampoons the cliches of Wales and exposes the tedious horrors of international business-speak and bureaucracy. Paradoxically his poems on relationships are tender and enigmatic, as much about the gaps and elisions of love as the poignant absurdities of strong feeling.