Sanguine poetry dressed in the sex and suffering of addiction.
That’s how I wish I could describe Naked Lunch.
Addiction is horrifying. Worse than any disease, more debilitating than any ordinary suffering, it is the surrender of one’s identity to a single moment of weakness. 534 more words
In celebration of Independence Day (a classic American Holiday), I’ve chosen not to focus on the negatives of U.S. politics and, instead provide you with the best of the best. 745 more words
humid mist, humid mist, blissful wince in the shower as the water splish, splashes on yesterday’s sunburn, sizzling pinches, hot rich breaths on my shoulders lounging, loafing, stuck by sweat on the leather sofa stolen from the street looking neat in my garden nestled between healthy nettles and the roses for cheeks on english roses, english noses which lead on, follow the leader leader leader to the park, to the grass which couldn’t be greener greener greener, its been a long time since I’ve seen ya, how are ya? 568 more words
The house in House of America is not in America at all, rather it’s in a village in South Wales right next to an open-cast mine which is ominous in presence and overshadows the house where Mam (Lowri Lewis) lives with her three children. 646 more words