The platformA Poem by andrew mitchell
The page
was no more but a platform for the creative process which on deviation could turn into progress or spiral downwards at a speed determined by the composer at a rate of words second to none. To explode into a conundrum of profanities or possibly die quietly from wondering. © 2024 andrew mitchell |
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Added on May 6, 2024 Last Updated on May 6, 2024 Authorandrew mitchelladelaide, AustraliaAboutStrindberg said. " When I come home and sit at my writing table, then I live.... I live, and I live in manifold fashion of all human beings. I depict; I am glad with the glad, wicked with the wicked,.. more..Writing
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