There is nothing to

There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed. Ernest Hemingway

The poet’s life is

The poet’s life is just so much crenellated waste, nights and days whipping swiftly or laboriously past the cinematic window. We’re hunched and weaving over the keys of our green our grey or pink blue manual typewriter maybe a darker stone cold thoritative selectric with its orgasmic expectant hum and us popping pills and laughing … Read more