The Old Bird
Raised glasses toast at the stretched saloon, away from the humanised beats and moving feet, I wonder the crowd mesmerised by the colourful bulbs, To the open road where there’s smoke, I retreat. […]
Articles by TheRealVeal
Neighbours
Within a certain house, There is a basement; this dark hell breathes of blood. A dried paste covers walls and the floors, Made for paintings, decorates doors. Dying fetuses that lie upon […]
Ale Park I Urn
We were standing in the gardens of lucidity, […]
