It is very rare to find a young poet with such an alert musical ear, able to listen ahead for the shape of a sound yet to be uttered.
- Sean O'Brien

​​Here is delight – these poems, rich and strange, brim from ‘the skim/of blood that can’t settle’. Jo Clement’s gifts shine and dazzle: amongst the darting, many-layered music of her imagery and sensuous evocation of northerly landscapes gleams a clear-sightedness politically aware and historically acute. Meaning is interrogated as a riverine process and emerges, movingly, in significances found later. Part urban fable, part re-imagining of Gypsy, Roma and Traveller culture, these poems are beautifully made to be read and re-read, savoured for their sharp, apple-bite tenderness, their truth and wisdom, their sheer originality.
- Pippa Little

​​This will be splendid for poetry fiends, print aficionados, woodcut wonks, their mates who rave over engravings, that aspect of the citizenry which is bonkers for Bewick, and possibly even passersby who simply find themselves inordinately fond of fonts.
- W. N. Herbert 

​​This wonderful book feels exhilarating, like a wild dance with a fiddle playing so fast you can barely keep up. Or a bareback ride through the woods. Bloody gorgeous.
- Jo Colley

​​This is the word of the weathered hand and of the hard, hale youth; the tattered treasure, the grafter and the fetter-breaking wild. These intoxicating and fine-sprung poems instantly place Clement in the front rank of Traveller writers. May they also relight our wonder at the depths of all unsung Englands.
- Damian Le Bas