– thoughts flicker through the mountain ash of my tired brain – Happy new year to poets worldwide. May your spandangles glisten with the resemblances of a fertile whimsy. i drink whisky 2u. 1 dream last nite – lung cancer diagnosis...
Readings about Corso et. al. lead me to discover Harold Chapman’s photos of the Beat Hotel. Shame they are all locked up behind a paywall, I wish they could escape and fertilise the minds of artist poet shamans everywhere. I would...
last week i took a train to sydney with some other poets and herewith is the efflusion: train train takes the mind train takes the heart train cuts through hills train knows the way the low strung out tide of rising...
