New British Poetry: An Anthology
Spring 1987
Let No Man Write My Epitaph
Just where the Seminole Trail sleaks south into Emmet StreetI came on a gunk motel that flips out this zeugma to the Scots, or the Scotch-Irish: SPEND A NIGHT, NOT […]
New British Poetry: An Anthology
Spring 1987
Belling the Cat
From Piers Plowman Rectors and parish priests complained to the bishop that their parishes were poor since the plague-time, they begged a license and leave to live in London where […]