It’s not over till it’s over, some more highlights from October’s Wordstock:
Wordstock poems from Rishi’s session
Killing for a living by Samm Short
Small mouth, tight nose, the hiss of words expelled in vulgar blurts and bullets. No gentle elegance here. Poetry born of blood and knife cuts, slicing the very tongue that envelopes it. This is how we kill for a living.
Our words are on fire – your face is on fire with the full fury of a language yet to be born.