Written by Callum Featherstone   To capture, nurse, and, hold, the unfairness of it all. The rapturous, coal- heartedness, of Hellish  snares, beneath, the Mall. When, afterwards, those  cauldrons, spout nightly  mares, of, bridled gall. The captor cursed, his embold- ened heir, is, a; hairless toupee, sheared, and, effortlessly, shorn.   The flesh, is, pierced, […]

An Ode to Heart