by Harry Eyres

Let Me Count The Ways

Once, many moons ago, I was in a bar in Sanlúcar de Barrameda with my friends Tim and Rocío Holt. Possibly I had imbibed one too many copitas of Manzanilla, but I let slip that I wrote poetry – whereupon an earnest young Sanluqueño asked me if my poetry was “subjective or objective”. I felt […]