Category Archives: Paul Harrison

by Paul Harrison they cut it out they had to fearing for my left and so tonight i fear as well they cut it out and now the grip is back is tense and dense and left and back and … Continue reading →

by Paul Harrison over and across these surfaces of my confinement lifting ridges and clumps of dust i think of death and the evidence all around how dust and books were made for each other how all the mothers and … Continue reading →