Bridget-Rose Lee is from Singapore, where writing ranks after those caught littering and only slightly above struggling poets who can take chilli. And yet it is very hot in the land she lives, but she likes writing about snow and its whiteness, and all things with a colour. Her poems are loud-like crap and gentle to a bleat. She is oxymoronically, a full-time, beginning poet writer. One day she hopes to elevate the status of what poetry can mean to a soul that wants to fight, in a young country that once said "poetry is a luxury we cannot afford.