Peter O’Neill

To suffer possible contagion at every living breath, Masked on the street, walking through the pandemic. You entered the local …

And so, you sit in your armchair, Every poor man’s throne, and look around you Like some mellow Lear with …

Corona – a word once synonymous With the afterglow of a cigar illuminated Micro-volcanically in the subterranean Evenings after crepuscule, …