4am. I was at the bus depot in North Hollywood, waiting for the Greyhound to Santa Cruz. Standing there in my cargo shorts, baseball cap, rucksack and a pair of knock off Ray- Bans hanging off the neck of a Jim Morrison t-shirt, I was the perfect picture of a tourist, or “traveller'', straight out of university. With a well thumbed copy of On the Road on me at all times, I fancied myself a mode...

I've cheated you a thousand times  A thousand by thousand ways In a thousand by thousand by thousand eternities With an eternal cavalcade of soft lipped suitors whose silken syllables  Drip Drip An agonising drip of honeyed dreams Whose hook-laced tongues remain by day Who sing lullabies of a blissful infinity Words you feel within a thundering silence whose violence, whose defiance Deafens Dea...