I text Bradley to let him know I’m running late to our rescheduled rendezvous by about 15 minutes. “All good mate I’m just on a zoom meeting that is going on longer than I expected” is the prompt reply. I’m relieved to be the first to arrive, yet a further 10 minutes beyond my revised ETA. 15 minutes after that, we’re settling in with a coffee having moved to a quieter table and appraised the new flyers for his upcoming show at the Night Owl on 16th April 2026.

“Did you design those on Canva?” I ask. “Yeah” – my first scoop!

“Can you tell?” He half jokes and I reassure him I only ask as a fellow avid user. We both decide, if we had to surrender all but one of our subscriptions, Canva Pro may well be the last direct debit standing.

While his April show sounds exciting,  seeing Bradley – for the first time ever – bring his typewriter onto stage to perform ‘Poetry on Demand’ for the audience, it’s not the main focus of our conversation.

W: I suppose the big thing is ‘Piece of Work’.

B: ‘Piece of work’.

W: Which is – because you’ve said it is – the flagship poetry night for Birmingham.

B: Indeed.

‘Piece of Work’ launched on Thursday 29th January 2026 to a sold-out crowd at Birmingham Museum and Art Gallery. I was part of the throng and there was a tangible sense of excitement – eager attendees needed no persuading to fill up seats from the front row and I saw two drinks get spilled before we’d even begun. Bradley carried the night with his usual wit and charm, if perhaps leaving his regular fans wanting more with a set list of one brand new poem amidst certified crowd pleasers (although if new poems are what you’re after the April 16th show is not one to miss).

Bradley is a dab hand at hosting, which is not always a given – even for talented poets, so the night benefits from his interludes both from an entertainment and pacing perspective. The headline lineup is stellar, and when you hear work of this quality it fully justifies writing as ‘Art’, and poetry as a craft to hone.

Each artist differed starkly. Fitzroy Holt offered a musical iteration, showing true power-ballad potential accompanied by Tommy Lawther on the saxophone for added emotional depth. Maxine Meixner’s self-confessional pieces felt as if we were old friends, crammed together on the sofa, putting the world to rights the morning after a night out. To round out the night, Caleb Femi transported us to South London with his absorbing and astutely observed house party scenes, taken from his latest published release ‘The Wickedest’.

B: So I was lucky enough last year to go on two UK tours and I went to a bunch of different cities across the UK and I noticed that each city has its own flagship, big night on a big scale. And I noticed that Birmingham doesn't have one that seems to be the epicentre of all those nights in one place, giving Birmingham a big spotlight. I went to Edinburgh and I did ‘Loud Poets’, which is a monthly showcase at the Scottish Storytelling Centre on the Royal Mile. And they are just fantastic. They're the key inspiration for ‘Piece of Work’ just because of how enthusiastic they were. And they're a lovely team. And then I went down to London to do ‘Spit Nights’, which only started just over a year ago, but it's already become a massive scale. They do three sold out events a month.

W: Wow.

B: And I thought Birmingham needs that. But I want it to be a mixture of not just bringing in established talent from elsewhere, but also being able to spotlight what we already have in Birmingham, which is a very rich poetry scene, not just of poets, but of musicians as well, and other artists and different art forms. And because I was already working with the Birmingham Museum and Art Gallery, doing poetry on demand with my typewriter, I pitched [it] to them. And for a big organisation to just give me the keys to do that, I think it's a good sign of what they want to do. It really shows what they're about and what their ethos is. An interesting titbit for you, a bit of statistics.

W: Oh, please. I genuinely do love statistics.

B: Yeah, me too. So, because the museum's very organised and professional, they have, like, data people. And yesterday they told me that out of the 180 tickets that were sold for the first ‘Piece of Work’, 100 of those tickets were people who had never bought tickets to anything at the museum before. So that's a brand-new audience for the museum coming in. But that's what they want. The museum said to me, we'd love to have this poetry audience come to the museum because we don't think they come into the museum really, for the majority.

W: So well done you, pat on the back. Have that pay rise now, thank you.

B: Exactly. I'll have the keys to the museum. Thank you so much. And yeah, that will only help also, it will help me programme ‘Piece of Work’ to be more... I guess, dynamic and exciting for future lineups.

W: And do you think the location for it is important? ‘Overcoat’ [Bradley’s poetry night that celebrated its final event last year] was in King's Heath, a bit more of an intimate venue. Birmingham Museum and Art Gallery is right in the city centre; do you think that's important for a flagship night?

B: I think so. I think it's important for a few reasons. Obviously, the first one is accessibility. Having it in the centre of town is good for people who want to come outside of Birmingham, but also it's a very accessible part of town. The other side of that coin, the useful part, is that it is a bit of Birmingham history and it is a Birmingham institution. I think, it pays respect to the poets who are on stage and sort of gives them the level of respect that they deserve, you know, to be on a stage in a 140-year-old Birmingham historical venue.

W: Yeah, like you say, a cultural establishment.

B: Exactly, yeah. But you've got Benjamin Zephaniah’s typewriter there and, like, the [Ozzy] Osborne exhibition there. It celebrates Birmingham, which lines up perfectly with the message of the night.

W: No disrespect to nights that happen in, like, rooms over pubs, but I know what you mean, there’s a gravitas associated with the setting.

B: The thing is ‘Piece of Work’ would not exist without those type of nights. It's built off the back of those nights. It's built off the back of ‘Overcoat’, you know. This wouldn't have happened without me doing ‘Overcoat’ for two years and thinking to myself, I love this, let's put it on a bigger scale.

W: And was that your own night as well? You mentioned on stage other night, you used to work at Kitchen Garden Café. So again, was that you approaching them and saying let's have something here?

B: Yeah, I was basically a barista there and I said to the owner, I would love to put on a poetry night, can I do it here? And he was like, yeah, sure.

W: Nice.

B: And it was the perfect place for it. I loved doing it there. Felt like a real family doing it there. What's nice is a lot of that crowd has now migrated to ‘Piece of Work’ as well, which is really nice to see. But yeah, I love those nights, you know, you've got ‘Tell It to the Music’, which is usually at Centrala in Digbeth. You've got ‘Pretty Privilege’ down in Moseley. You've got ‘Run Your Mouth’, which is a slam that happens sort of across the city. You've got the ‘Big Gay Poetry Night’, which I'm slightly biased towards.

W: At ‘Piece of Work’, I know you've kind of scoped it as a local legend and then an honorary Brummie as the lineup. Do you feel like it's important to put like, a Brummie stamp on it? I know people say to you “you're doing such a good job at representing Birmingham” and I wonder how do you feel about that?

B: I think it's a tricky thing with Birmingham at the moment in that it's suddenly loved again, and is a beloved city now. But part of that feels slightly performative and that you just see the same Birmingham people spotlighted again and again and again. And so the point of that local legend slot is to see all of the Birmingham talent in all its different forms. And you know, local legend just doesn't mean Birmingham either, it means Midlands. So it could be anyone who has a connection to the Midlands at all.

W: I think it's a nice subtle way to disrupt the very mainstream narrative of “Brummies are stupid”, “annoying”, “Birmingham's a rubbish city” just to put a spotlight on great Brummie work. But my personal opinion as well is like, Birmingham's still got a long way to go.

B: Oh for sure, especially with the arts. It feels like rose-tinted glasses sometimes. Definitely, yeah, do you feel like Birmingham is the best city in the world? For many reasons it's not. Let's not pretend that it's one way or the other, you know, it's a mixture. Everyone knows that Birmingham is a diverse city and that's sort of what its crowning glory is. Also it's a real diversity in terms of the different art forms we have. We have drag queens, we have musicians and we have painters and tapestry people and architects and poets and writers and authors - we have everything really. And I think another part of the night will be spotlighting that part as well. 

W: It's exciting to see what's to come.

B: I've said it now, so it will happen.

W: You've said it now. It's going to be in print. 

      Something else I wanted to touch on is, I suppose, the evolution of your persona, but would you call that the evolution of your poetry as well? I've been aware of your work since you were ‘Mr. Blue’ and sticking poems to trees in Cotteridge Park, quite a different staging for your work, where does that fit in?

B: Well, it's that thing of like my journey, whatever you want to call it, from when I started poetry to where I am now. That has become sort of like a fairy tale to me. So when I was sticking those poems on trees, Emma Wolfe [of Friends Of Cotteridge Park] just caught me doing it one day. She literally saw me doing it, and then grabbed me basically, Oh, it's you! And then said to me, “Do you want to do a zine?” She did all that for me. I didn't do a thing; she just wanted to do that. And I had a launch for that, and that was in the park at The Shed, and I started doing workshops there, and did a poetry walk there and stuff. That was the time where I started to realise, oh, this is not just something I like doing as an individual, this is something I like doing as part of the community. And I started to see the effects of it as a community and what that can do for people. So then I started working with Birmingham Tree People and the National Trust. 

I became Poet in Residence at the Bookshop in the Green in Bournville for a little bit. That ended and then I established a good relationship with Catherine and Claire from the Heath Bookshop who have done more for me than I would say anyone else has. I really, I owe them so much but also, I don't - because they've said to me I don't owe them a thing, do you know what I mean?

W: Yeah, and that’s obviously been the course of a few years and, if I may be so bold, I would say the feeling of your persona back then is very different to the feeling of your persona now.

B: For sure.

W: Has that evolution been conscious, if that makes sense?

B: I think it's been more of a deliberate choice as time has gone on. I think when I was doing the Mr Blue stuff and I was just sticking poems on trees during lockdown; I wanted the point of those poems to not be attached to a person, because they were meant for people who were going on lockdown walks, so I thought I'll just have like a little moniker thing. And that comes from all the people that I look up to, because I get a lot of inspiration from musicians mainly. And a lot of musicians who create characters for themselves, like David Bowie or Bjork or Tom Waits or Patti Smith, Nina Simone. And that allows you, I think, a bit more artistic freedom. Like, you don't go to a show thinking that “this is real”. All of it is, to some degree, fake and put on.

W: The emotional connection might be real, but the words aren’t gospel.

B: Exactly, yeah. And the fake part of it and the show part of it is part of the fun and part of the beauty of it. It's not a negative thing at all. And I'm glad that I'm not the person on stage that I am off stage, because I think the person on stage in a normal setting like this would be unbearable. So loud, you know.

W: And do you think, Mr. Blue had a bit of that or, did you move away from Mr. Blue when you started doing open mic nights?

B: That was it, yeah. Yeah. So I started - my first open mic night was to ‘Tell It To The Music’ when it was still at Artefact in Stirchley. And I went and I performed some Mr. Blue poems and then I performed a poem about a kinky dishwasher. And that felt completely out of line with what the Mr. Blue stuff was. So I thought, oh, this is something new. What will this be? Oh, it's me. Well, it's me, but it's also this new character, which is me under my name, but it is a different persona.

W: I feel like this new persona is much more... What's the right word? Like, you have a lot more fun with it.

B: One quote that I always come back to is, “I'll tell you all my secrets, but I lie about my past.” So I'm telling you the truth, but I'm telling you through a lie. That's by Tom Waits, and that sort of encapsulates my work for me.

W: I have it on good authority that you did a reading or maybe even a singing…did you sing or did you read a Tom Waits song at one of your first open mics?

B: I read a Tom Waits song, yeah. Yeah, I read ‘Fish and Bird’.

W: So I find that really interesting actually, and did that... Was that a hook because you weren't confident in your own material yet?

B: I wasn't confident enough and I didn't have any. I think I had maybe 2 poems at that point, which was the dishwasher poem and another one called ‘Existence’. And I just didn't want to read the same ones over and over again. And also I thought, oh, if I read work from people that I look up to, people who are creating characters themselves, maybe that'll rub off on me a little bit. And I think it did, you know.

W: Helped you find your presence on stage.

B: Exactly, yeah, and all of that comes from not only how I act on stage but the way I dress - yeah, I always purposely wear a suit on stage.

W: I think you're right, you’ve created meaning through your stage presence.

B: I mean, look at Tyler The Creator. He creates a new character like every couple of years, you know?

W: He had to, about 10 years ago.

B: Well, exactly.

W: He was going to be cancelled.

B: We do it for all different reasons. [Joking] If my current character ever says something out of line, a new one will pop up immediately.

W: Would you enjoy seeing that at a ‘Piece of Work’ open mic, seeing somebody read material that's not their own or not a poem?

B: I'd love that. I think, I mean, one of my plans for ‘Piece of Work’ is [that] I'm going to do a reading, at some point in the night, of someone else's work.

W: I think that could be quite exciting. And I think it could break some of the barriers of... “Oh, well, I can't sign up because I don't have anything”. Or even “oh, I'm going to be called a fraud, I'm going to be called a plagiarist”.

B: There's none of that really. Give it a go.

W: Do you write for yourself every day?

B: I probably should, but I don't.

[M.L Walsh nips up the stairs and diverts to our table]

ML: Do you have any tobacco?

B: No, I don't – we’re recording this! 

ML: Oh sorry! What’s this for?

W: Concrete Magazine.

ML: Oh I love Concrete Magazine, I’m always reading it… at the…hairdressers.

B: Oh yeah? What are you reading it on?

ML: On… my phone.

B: Good save.

W: I’m convinced. 

[Tobacco-less, but knowing about the existence of Concrete, M.L Walsh resumes course and heads out the door]

B: That's all you need to know about our relationship. Borrowing tobacco… I don't write every day. But I think every day.

W: I find the immediacy of pen and paper very compelling in poetry. [You write something] and it's here, now, and it's ready to be consumed. Do you recognise that? 

B: Funnily enough, and this is not me trying to put my PR hat on. But for ‘Piece of Work’, we've also launched a writers’ group. And the nice part about that is it is very immediate in that you bring a piece of work that that you're working on and you show it in that moment and you get instant feedback from a group of writers who are all in the same boat as you. They're all on the same similar level because they're going to show a piece of work as well. So you're all being vulnerable in a room together, supporting each other, giving brutal, honest feedback. In a supportive space, in a protected space.

W: That's important as well, because it can be quite lonely, as an artist. Are you happy for it to be a completely new group every time? Are you just going to get a, kind of, solid selection together?

B: I hope it's a mixture of both because I don't want it to be like, "oh, you came to the first one, so now you have to come to the rest", or "you come to the third one, why haven't you come to the first two?" - It should be a nice sort of drop-in, drop-out sort of situation. Because also it's quite limited. There's only 10 places.

W: It's important for the type of intimacy you want from it.

B: You can't have more than that because then you'll be there all day sharing your work, you know. 

W: And how frequently are you running the writers’ group?

B: The writers’ group will be in that middle bit between the Piece of Work events. So also every two months, but sort of in the interim. And that will always facilitated by me, but also co-facilitated with a local Birmingham artist. So yeah, I just hope that - because a lot of people want writers’ groups and spaces like that - so I just hope that it does what it says it will do. I think it will.

As I did during ‘Piece of Work’, I notice the humility with which Bradley states his case. With a sold-out debut ‘Piece of Work’, a sold-out writers’ group and only a handful of tickets left for his upcoming shows, it seems Bradley Taylor is doing a great job at doing exactly what he says he’s going to do. 

I come away convinced his strongest qualities are modesty, passion for the work and community-mindedness… Bradley Taylor, what a piece of work indeed.