Invitation to the Tyburn Jig

In the shadow of the gallows, not far from the hangman’s noose, the young pick-pocket drowns in the shallow murk of a blindman’s holiday, once the jailer’s doused the glim. He was born under a threepenny planet, dipping wipers for a tot of lightning, dodging charlies and soul-drivers. Holed up in a gospel-shop, pot-valiant, he forgot […]