Welcome to the 'heritage-listed foyer'--they've ordered you a workstation, and your induction starts now. In Harry Reid's LEAVE ME ALONE, we enter a nondescript door down a laneway and casuallyapply the secret knock. This is not the door to the reception, or to the main office; it's the door to the sly-grog palace of language inside our minds. You can get a straight-up glass of viscous word-gin that you could stand a spoon...
Related Subjects
Poetry