War Poets

Paul Verlaine's Chanson d'automne was coded - still popular poetry - to give notice - his long sobs of French-sung violins declared an Allied invasion to those listening Whilst she never understood speeches of love - and our common mistakes - I would rarely read to her - she rarely read my mutterings - my … Continue reading War Poets

Words Burn

VLADIMIR: You should have been a poet. ESTRAGON: I was. [Gesture towards his rags.] Isn’t that obvious. [Silence.]  Waiting for Godot. Samuel Beckett A whole ninety-eight cents have recently been credited to my low-tide bank account from Yanks' penny clicks on my must-do-better lines in newly-hewn sob stories without no strummed blues which now appear … Continue reading Words Burn