culture
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Season’s greetings! Bah! Humbug. I hope you get a Stocking full of coal. Giuseppe Gillespie – November 2021
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Hand tools, carved jewels, Made by mules and sold to fools, Value in sparkle. Giuseppe Gillespie – November 2021
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Open palm, closed fist, Two attitudes towards life, A path we must choose. Giuseppe Gillespie – November 2021
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Aspiration gone. She cries herself dumb in lap. Home to make do with. Giuseppe Gillespie – November 2021
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Pictures blend on rolled Matte paper, pigmented dye Smudges across bleed. Giuseppe Gillespie – November 2021
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In an eastern land The sun’s face raised heavenly Above stone and jade. Giuseppe Gillespie – November 2021
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These notes out of key. Who knew middle c could be Such a mystery? Giuseppe Gillespie – November 2021
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Old Ireland is dead. Its language, culture, and soul, Traded in euro. Giuseppe Gillespie – November 2021
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These primitive shapes: Circle, square, and triangle, Our world’s built upon. Giuseppe Gillespie – October 2021
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Childhood cruelty, To watch its corpse limbs wriggle, Pulling crane fly legs. Giuseppe Gillespie – October 2021
Giuseppe Gillespie Writing 