Prince, sulk beneath a hooded light, When I say this joke however mean, I truly do mean in stronger word,…
Category: Avant-garde
Where objects become the words of their own.
Smoke on glass
A way was shut, A glass was filled, The red so pure, Who knew would last, A smoke so fine,…
Craft me a sea
Then sat down the moon yonder, I'm looking away whilst he writes, He's looking at me whilst I sing, I'm…
Hill spotting
I paint myself a picture leaping, Sooner the brush strokes rushed, They were crusted from disuse, All was tired lest…
