Poems about as rugged as they get packets of grit and gristle with a soft centre. Jak Debussy gets his hands dirty fumbling through his mind on the couch and serves up the real as is. Read him as he writes "wolfishly/all-devouring/free of guilt or conscience".
Laurence Reed

The man can wring the neck of words and draw their blood to the last drop!
J.R. Sybbud