Do readers buy poetry from undead poets? Do they consume it if it's not free? There's nothing quite like picking the prose and verses of the dead like vultures. There's freedom in that unpicking, with no one alive to contest - at least not the mind which birthed them. Sinclair consumes written and spoken as she does in its lyrical form, dressed in music and paint. Dancing to the beat or screaming into the voids of despair. Here, Sinclair presents Clan Witch: Found Shadows, no music, no paint, just words. A mix-tape of drabbles and anarchic free-verse poetry. The writer still lives. Perhaps you'll read her unruly verse before the witch is dead.
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