UNDERLAND (after that man ‘Lewis’) Towards winter solstice, Alice can no longer cope with groping down blind alleys, being groped by creatures she doesn’t comprehend, in places obscure to her. She has issues with size, this human yoyo, no permanence and issues between her thighs, no liniments. No malice. Just a sweet intrinsic no to … Continue reading Three poems by Geraldine Clarkson