Numero uno modern poet used his body; so pre Acker, pre body piercer, pre body builder, pre video artist. Rumour flexes on tape covers; Enter the Dragon of sprung history. Swivel on the balls of your feet; block, punch & counter punch, the underground will always champion the underground. Keep your secrets Eastern, your thoughts Western.
You’d be scared too, if Sven Thor Olson was haunting (you).
There was a son too all so tragically Irish. Hollywood ate some beaver (water-dog) by mistake & prophecy chained itself to a rock. The migraine was fake, the 357 real.
I have a nephew called Brandon Lee.
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