Someone has complained of the beach weed stench - this beach stinks is etched into a bench. Next to this someone has penned for consideration You a bitch and yo mum is a fish • The queue for chicken bones, the hound shite footprints, the coven of the blameless, detail the carpet, the sand and … Continue reading Your colour schemes delight.
the very last words that she heard were, “hey, man! they’ve just landed!” it was late one night in ‘69 we laid her out on a big blue blanket. we carried her down to the beach through the town, there was a storm brewing on the atlantic. (the needle fell and i heard the sound of side … Continue reading side two of beggars banquet.
the air stirs with rumour of the submarine halved in the harbour. brows furrow and palm-flattened charts appear. below the sheltered walls, an aria - an iron-throated chorister. archaic; rises, floats, fades, and disappears. (photo: nick reeves - south shields pier)
