Lo Lo at the door, her big eyes blue to bursting through the threshold of the simple house at 108, and billowing fabric, a train of electricians in her wake. ‘La Loïe’, receptive to fancy, desired luminous wings of radium, had read a story in the paper of the couple

Wide open chords raise a blue night on the orange grove of crossed lines. We angle towards metaphor, as if art travels deeper through weird parallel: arms might be

they were really into sax back then – big mouthfuls of it –

The immense support that Vagabond has shown to new and established poets alike through their Rare Objects Series is without competition, and with the series soon winding up at #100, it presents an impressive and elegant tribute to the poetic spirit rather than the publishing market, the poet and reader rather than the profit margin.

There are bees at her mouth and birds at her eye – flying. The dust, so scattered