This book by Spike Milligan is a fairly dry and cynical compendium of poems, if I'm being brutally brevitous; it's alright if you're worried about my reading budget, as you may well be forgiven for being seeing what this blog may inherently imply, but I borrowed this one from the Stovell house, as with many of the lent or temporarily-available books that have similarly been spewn onto the ethereal textscape... I'm rambling about almost nothing. Like this poetry book, a bit.
No comments:
Post a Comment