The pubs do a roaring trade and travelling people being travelling people, outbreaks of fisticuffs – and worse – are a regular feature of the weeklong festival.

My body moved on screen, his lay in stillness in his maternal room in needless wait, my almost child, near as he was in utero , a flotsam that will go to waste with hopes and dreams,

An Essay

As we embark on this journey Not knowing the final port, Nor the conditions of the seas, Whether they will be charitable to us or not, Nor knowing, if we must confront an iceberg,

A true account of a sad incident that happened to an acquaintance of mine.

We were promising - poi kipper wrists, penny sweet whistle 'lean your neck back darling' necklace unclip. Kiss. The beer bottles tap tap our lips. Now we wake from sleep, our forehead lines

Yet more Inspiration Point nonsense