Poem by Clifton Redmond
Another Day He sits on the window sill, all day outside the corner pub, going through his pockets, fingering, frisking, scratching. he finds a betting slip rolled into a white [...]
Another Day He sits on the window sill, all day outside the corner pub, going through his pockets, fingering, frisking, scratching. he finds a betting slip rolled into a white [...]