Life’s like a lobotomised impression inside a golden skull; too cheap to bury, too expensive to keep. A Stradivari of motionless complexities, all sailing south, monstrosities, as forbidden banners of condemned rebellions… Tied to the mast of someone else’s travels, on sleepless waves of no more dreams to catch, blinded lighthouses towering over shipwrecked carcasses … Continue reading A metric analysis of impossible rhymes…