Poetry And Prison Have Always Been Neighbors.

Bright Colours In The West, Giant Butterflies Dancing As Night Crept Like A Cripple Toward The East.

I'm An Educated Man, The Prisons I Know Are Subtle Ones.

In Some Lost Fold Of The Past, We Wanted To Be Lions And We're No More Than Castrated Cats

Every Book In The World Is Out There Waiting To Be Read By Me.

Literature + Illness = Illness