Ffooks mums got one fucking bosom! This assertive oddity, surly odd ditty, this ode to an odd titty, with its grammatical shortcomings, is rendered in white chalk on the door of the third cubicle in the boys’ lavatory. It appeared among the bristling graffiti galaxy the first week of January and will serve as good … Continue reading The Satellites & The Major Planets.
the thinner spectre of the two, serene and pale and half in shadow, from the creases of the curtain, floats a plaintive lullaby into the swollen greenwich evening. her song for sleepless children. 'a painted fort for poorly cowboys, a teepee for the squaw and chieftain. a mountain range of wooden blocks to … Continue reading the moon before.