Tag Archives: by Nupen Oldhand

Read Poetry: On Reflection, by Nupen Oldhand

I was raised in narrow alleys between tower-blocks of convention. Not even the streets and avenues were for my attention. Just those alleys, New York-like, rubbish strewn, cabbage-aired, concrete and cobbles uneven. The whirr of air-conditioning, smell of fast-food, and … Continue reading

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