PoetryI was told experience mattered. This is a lie, at least when it comes to light. I’ve drunk decades of it and still I cannot describe the taste. Let’s say the study is drenched in lemonade. I have lived here for most of a...

PoetryI was out walking yesterday or perhaps it was todaywhen a man young as a son spoke under his breath: goback home, he said, you belong. There, not here. Beforenot now. This is not the first time, time was...