Art is a kind of control over the world, a refusal to see or not see as others do. My father gradened the back yard. He scraped together a more or less retangular plot - mostly chamomille tea and a few plum trees from which he made a very potent sloe gin. It was not much as gardens go. An accidental... Sign in to see full entry.
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poet's view. journal of the life and times of John Horvath Jr, poet and editor of poetryrepairs.com
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