…and thoughts come in verse: ‘The stone lion at the gate / wears a mask like mine. / This is where I used to wait / for books that bind / that kept my mind at ease— / I crack them as I please. / Now I hurry home . . .’
‘Four-mile walk / double masked / fogged-up glasses / gloves and hat— / I’m a walking mummy / in deserted streets.’














![Heathcote Williams [Photo: JH, 2013]](https://www.artsjournal.com/herman/wp/wp-content/uploads/2017/07/heathcote-williams-photo-copy-200x200.png)


