Cassandra Voices Poetry

Poetry: Alex Winter

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AREOPAGITE The cloud moves, low, across the landscape, leaving a slick of rainwater on the backs of cows. It passes through the mind of a priest and into the eyes of a fourteen year old girl. It is a pestilence.  A curse upon the territory. In the villages they are rasping for bread. No chickens … Read more

Poetry Recording – Paul Curran

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Try mph To Payney, Tinpan, JJ, Tom P., Tom C., Col, Ry, Peewee I know the car I would most love to own: Well red, early seventies TR6, That beautiful, British-built, roadster mix, Boldly bearing the boxed badge of renown – Great jewel in Triumph’s commercial crown – Two point five litre, manual, straight-six, Mint … Read more