“The condition of alienation, of being asleep, of being unconscious, of being out of one’s mind, is the condition of the normal man.” ― R.D. Laing, They say there’s something missing, in the boy with the golden hair, his genetic type is, truly, very rare. There’s an absence that appals: closed…

Poetry — Silence from my mother, Silence from my brother Silence from my father, Silent lies my friend. The tearing silence of my son, pain without end. In my mind voices, voices of the dead, who speak to me instead of hiding fast away for all eternity. They speak to me of all…

A poem — Today our cat Molly, has gone away maybe to die. She is a tabby small, neat, clean splayed after her first kindle of kittens. She loved Charlie, our big black sloppy Labrador she rubbed herself against him, and watched him curiously as he ate her food rude boy… After Charlie’s…

In the Apple Market your south London twang accompanied the many undulations of time. Your wild androgyny, mirroring the mirror of yourself skimmed off the water of childhood, like a shaking dog, You lit up, spot-lighted, an iridescence of sound Ziggy! Your songs were the water I needed your terse verse spreading underground, along…

Poetry — A lump of concrete, in my stomach, Settles in, sets off a dragging Motion. An Ape-like me grunts ‘Set me free.’ Nothing happens. And all of a sudden the whole sullen world Of getting and spending and moaning And groaning is all at once so utterly alien to me. I walk in cool air, hear the…