Transferware — pottery decorated with printed designs transferred from engraved copper plates — appears in poems about the industrialisation of beauty and the mass-produced pastoral; A poem about the invention of transfer printing might describe it as "the moment the engraver's line became democratic — the same willow pattern available on ten thousand plates simultaneously, the hand replaced by the press"; In a poem about a working-class Victorian kitchen, transferware's blue printed scenes give the room its only landscape: "the pastoral on the plate bore no relation to the street outside — but the pastoral was on every plate, every morning, until it became the view"; Transferware's standardisation — the same pattern repeated identically across an entire service — suits poems about uniformity and the comfort of the repeated image: "the same blue bridge on every piece, the same figures crossing — the repetition a kind of certainty in a world that offered few"; A poem about an archaeological dig through a Victorian midden might describe the transferware sherds: "the pattern still legible on the broken pieces — the blue willow trees growing from the shards as if the ground had always been their proper place"; In a poem about the relationship between art and manufacture, transferware asks the question the poet must answer: "if beauty is repeated without variation, is it still beauty — or has it become something more reliable, and therefore more needed?"