Tristan Hazell lives and works in the shadow of the Westway on Portobello Road. What follows is a collection of observations, reviews, social comment, fiction, poetry, art criticism and more. Much of it is fiction and some of it will offend someone somewhere, I hope.

Sunday, March 31, 2013

Nothing rhymes with death. Marjorie Hazell RIP.

Nothing rhymes with death and nothing makes any sense.

For Honey.  31.3.2013

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