Another collection of poetry from Mark Whelehan. A bridge between apocryphal narrative, twisted lexicon, with poetic licence thrown in... wrought into the handle of an implement... weaponised as it's turned, hammered and spun together fashioned and forged... a white hot smithery of emotion. A foundry fire of melting words. Smote... some hot some cold they splutter singe... sparks fly and like ash softly fall alight as a scribbled text on a wall.