The Artists' House
Their peeling porch was shaded by bamboo,
poetry
August
Late August night,
After Caravaggio's David with the head of Goliath
It's not Goliath, but himself
The Goblet
A set of twelve bundled in a suitcase and cargoed
Malocchio
Is more than a brief afflication of clumsiness:
A Fragrance of Time
Time is not sequential but serpentine.
Deo Vindice
Set out like the foundations of a town
What Was Said o The Waitress about Davie
Bring soup. Bring bread - buttered, please. And tea.
At Harry's Bar
Sank Roo Doo Noo
For B-
Another hot evening, the poplars furred with dust.
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Current Issue: No. 301
