Nullaby explores psychodrama in the domestic space, clandestine realities of love, and fears and anxieties in a modern relationship; the reflections on which most often occur in liminal states between sleep and waking or as a result of being kept awake at night.

Blindness, and seeing, are inseparable in Patrick Wright’s Nullaby. Deeply personal in the way they record illness and care, the poems often emerge out of darkness: in “The Blind Photographer”, typically, he relishes the dense particularities of his speaker’s situation, even as he goes about “invoking all that’s lost in the world / as blocks of visitation on contact paper.” - John McAuliffe

The sensual, anatomised poems of Nullaby travel through interior and external landscapes, "the body’s catacombs", to track apparitions, hospital wards, the night terrors of illness. These places where "the joke begins to wear itself thin" nevertheless brim with light,colour, scent. At once loss and redemption, its song of "I" to "you" is almost unbearably intimate and always extraordinary. In this heart-aching collection Wright is "faithful all along" to lyrical form and its "limitless repertoire of love". - Gail Ashton