Who are you that I see
Must be my image in a looking glass
staring back at me
Can not touch it, it can't be real
It's like a dream running on a movie reel
Images everywhere that rest in my head
Who are you, you do not see me
Lost in the looking glass
Pure images aroud
Stuck in a universe not made for me
Who am I, who are we
What is it that I really see
What is what isn't
I guess I will eventually see
Robin Ouzman Hislop's poetry is certainly in dialogue with some of the key architects of the 'poetics of indeterminacy' – both the Modernist strands represented by the likes of Beckett and Stein, and the postmodernist strands represented, initially,
David Hightower’s lyrically expansive meditation on the whims of fate and the unpredictability of the human condition fill the pages of THE HANGING MAN DREAMS with thrilling music and mesmerizing imagery. Hightower’s richly infused voice echoes the e
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