That day, a would-be princess
dressed in jaundiced rags,
roaring with tropical anger,
masked the sound of the telephone
ringing.
Samuel Beckett’s voice-mail,
all blink-light urgent, and
with increasing consternation,
goes unanswered.
Maggie on Dudley and Eunice | |
![]() | Rockall Mugs | Will… on It’s Pissing Down On… |
![]() | Peak 3 (Stillborn) |… on Alderley Edge |
erroneouschoices on Brittle (for Greg) | |
hana on Succotash |
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