why don’t we admit it, we made a mistake… the editor of lamps knows her job is specific — these are pointless pieces of self destined…
Taxi poem: a dramatised dialogue and video
Come, sit on the toilet while I showerotherwise, I might fallinto a drain, a long hole
I brace the cold winter night
Awaiting, click-clack;
Cavalry face: vacant, blank
Better late than never…
Junkies, you and me, aboard