Donnybrook's resident poet recklessly throws down the absinthe, and picks up a phone; and texts this sonnet to you, good ...
Is there fruit in building telepathy When a text message will suffice? Is there romance in abbreviated bits Of transmiss ...
I fell asleep with my ears ringing Mouth so dry, parched, my throat Thinking about what he was singing Oh, shivering. Th ...
didn’t check the clock, got there just in time how minutes shrink and stretch wildly in the night very first notes ran ...
Elitism. Concern. Blazers with kerchiefs. If you had thought it, you’d have known what to say. And not stood gaping li ...
“I know what 50 Cent means, too – but I’ve strangely never considered invoking any of his lyrics when asking the b ...
