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This is a Paperback Book. And it is ram-jammed full of poems by KEY. Originally it was conceived and sold as a hardback book. That was approximately three years ago, but increasingly KEY has dreamt of a leaner, more manageable incarnation. KEY hates hardbacks, always has. If you have ever been lucky enough to ogle his bookshelves you'll have seen that he only has thirty hardbacks all told. He has a Bible, a dictionary, a Viz annual, a book of Mike Atherton's collected cricket columns, and twenty-five copies of his own hardback. More and more he has agitated for that brute to be superseded by something more chic; a slimmer, more athletic version that one can slide into a pocket or down a rugby sock at its owner's convenience. And now here it is. Within its featherweight pages you will find the vast majority of the same poems as you'll find in its unwieldy predecessor. Poems skewering such thorny issues as sex, pancakes, Serbs and vodka. But, in order to drum up renewed interest, KEY has also added a new poem. And there are also seven new introductions. And KEY has also been allowed to waddle round the text with his Lamy fountain pen, altering and updating. Improving. Making everything just so. For this: The Paperback.