Our senses have sealed our bodies in cells with no place to turn. Regardless of what we do we remain imprisoned by their whims.

Lost in a crowd.

The last conversation of an inmate with the walls of his cell the night before his execution.

Just a little something I wrote…

A short story of the last Jaffa cake in the box…may not be long…

In love with a glorious pain in the ass some year back, we had a fight and I wrote the following poem after trying repeatedly to reach her by phone. She was ignoring my calls. We both knew it.

Get details on this wireless monitoring device.

Cell numbers.

Off the top of my head.

I have tried to incorporate the basic information on enzymes in this composition. It has been greatly simplified for the benefit of all my dear readers.