Category Archives: w

Wot I think about. (sometimes) Pvc and cadillacs, toaster ovens, cheese, shetland island beaches buckets full of cream orangeade and lemons sunny days and rain mountains in midwinter caravans and planes girls and boys and plasticine honey bees and trees … Continue reading →

Whither Atrophy? Love is a Thing of Beauty A flower in the glade A beckoning beneath the window A truth still unmade Yet we who speak of her must know That committment to her cause is all The flower grows … Continue reading →

i am the death knell of poetry the knee-capping of rhyme the stillness at the centre of words as the idiot sings ballads for the homeless and the chorus line kick up their toes ferment and forgetfulness are the bastions … Continue reading →

On Wasted Time. Oh what have i done that i should rest in ignorance so long my flesh a willing supplicate to the barren desires of easy pleasure while in the long green valleys and flowered fields dead men sleep … Continue reading →