from Post Sequence Drift: Blues 2
Issue #54
Spring 1991
Such accidents do happen dancing: she says I'm dancing beneath your loving blow so I stagger staggered, he says no: it wasn't a blow it was a brush—feather light; I fly round the world for your gold another time she...
Purchase an archive subscription to see the rest of this article.
Purchase an archive subscription to see the rest of this article.