Then there is the disturbing “Chop Him Up For Firewood” by Barrie Darke about an emotionally traumatic and violent reaction to a funeral, or Will Diamond’s “The Seven Sins of Santa” which describes an even more dramatic visit to the pub. In fact, pubs abound, turning up in Stephen Cooper’s “Dark Horses” and Ali Rutherford’s “Haikus and Heavy” about a group of jaw-busting poets with cruel initiation rites.

The counter-balance to all this “lads” stuff is provided by Jan Harris’ excellent “Gratitude Diary” whose soft ironic take on positive thinking stays beautifully and elegantly the subtle side of biting parody, Ragna Brent’s “The Lemon Pip” which should be read to every NCT birthing class, Darrell Iriving’s erotically playful “She Fancies Me”, and Danny King’s Raold Dahlesque “Harriets First Day”.

What’s left? Two twisty yarns: Ian Ayris’ “My Mate Tel” and Rod Glenn’s “Paranoid”, and something of an odd-one-out, Catherine Edmunds’ “Northern Lights”, a genuinely disturbing piece addressing schizophrenia.