A perfect body is like a blank page: it fills you with a desire to write, but gives you nothing to say.
Minding the House This house is all wrong. The headboard on the bed is too big, Both armchairs, once plump, are now turgid, The chest of drawers too small by half. The sideboard warping , the handles too large (And there’s nothing but rubbish in the bottom drawer.) The entranceway has a collapsing haunch. The... Continue Reading →