Poetry
Autumn/ September 1969
Frankenstein
(August 26th, 17—) The myth is unchained: it staggers north, insane. A ghost of lightning glows in its eyes; its slow hands close in wrath like child’s hands seizing flowers. […]
Poetry
Autumn/ September 1969
Bon Voyage
One does not just pick up one’s long feet, flatten the wings of one’s hat and go (eyes wide, beak forward, driving like an ax). There are rituals to these […]