This is a crackpipe belonging to a friend of a friend of friend [Fofafoaf]. A piece of tin foil covering the top of the bottle would have a bed of cigarette ash placed in it, the crack sitting on top and the smoke drawn through it. Fofafoaf says he really likes it a lot, it …
Category archives: poetry
in permanance
Sitting in a café on the high street, looking out across the road I suddenly notice a young woman standing in a telephone kiosk, still while people on the street pass by. I realise she runs the stall selling hats and scarves. Her stillness surprises me, emphasising how busy I am, how busy we often …