...but smoothing the cheek of reality has it's dangers.
If you dream in the curiously muted colours of 70s comics, gaze stupefied with wonder at the background stupidity of the universe which remains constant in whichever direction one looks, if you envy the dusty interior of hens and goats, or are just plain stripy, then Jack Marsden, The Caterer, may well have the interior monologue that you wish echoed round the empty cathedrals of yr brain.
Lipstick For Dogs
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