“First, a moveable feast Lost in Paris Olives, goujon, crusty bread....
“For Rimbaud hell is French and boringFor me it is the...
“Peel back the vanishing points, seethe red bench set downin our...
Sigh a sound of longing, sigh a sound of letting go ...
At regular tea youlower your last fingerto say, “There’s no need...
“Your songs never got sadder, how can that be? Your mother...
“Shadows lie to live, tell us we’re taller, thinner, flat as...
The complete absence of gospel music filled Tommy’s head, like a...
I’ve been called a liar before. I’d reply: “how observant.” ...