A soldier was I Once, decorated, proud, true, I used my visions To find prisoners, Ammunition depots, all Targets, protective, Not aggressive. But One day,
Waves covered his dark Hair, and down he sank, in the Depths he found his home.
Bruno sat on the dock outside Lula’s house. He watched the waves on the sea, and he thought about who he was now and what
Long-time readers here will know that the Parlando Project has been performing a section of T. S. Eliot’s “The Waste Land” each year to celebrate
Zula and Lula rushed the stage, as Bruno wriggled in the hangman’s noose. They drew their swords. From the wings of the stage, they were
Lula and Bruno trailed behind Zula. “Do you think Shamshael’s going to hurt my dad?“ Zula slowed and turned towards them as they walked. “Lula,