Song for Mickie the Brickie Mickie I met down Watney Street and he whistled me across. “How are you” he said —and of course really meant “have you a little to spare for some drink”— but could not bear to ask. We walked through the decayed market, a yellow-black sun gazed down over Sainsbury’s as I went to look for … Sigue leyendo 6 Poemas de Stephen Watts