Plumstead Station by electric light shows the joy of Thatcher’s night. Snow encroaches the lonely ex–worker whose hell is dismissed as “that of a shirker; if one quarter are too poor to hope who cares: we’ll get three quarters’ vote.”
blog music photography podcast poetry shop
content rss
year title sample book
hear
this archive is hosted by 2024’s arts & ego © 1978–2024 dylan harris some rights reserved