Today I do not have a migraine. And I started a new poem, which is already an improvement. (I wish I had written Peter Spagnuolo's "Interpol 22019-1.7: The Head of the Hatra Apollo," but that can't be helped and I'm glad someone did.) And tonight is the first installment of TCM's Hammer Horror Fridays, of which I am planning to watch as many as contain Peter Cushing my brain can stand. Happy October. Wish me luck.
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Active Entries
- 1: Be my hand on the oar to row to eternity
- 2: Now I'm walking round the city just waiting to come to
- 3: You know this city like the back of your hand, but deep roots are holding me down
- 4: Here we are in the summer rain again
- 5: You're on, music master
- 6: To cormorant to samphire to plover
- 7: I'm the left hand ticking on the timeless clock
- 8: Hope and anger in the ink and on the streets
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