“It needn’t be tinder, this juncture of the year” Conor O’Callaghan – January Drought          I – Hand-wringing… Tinseltown they called itThe Hollywood sign above itOn mountain and canyons coveredWith scrub like gasoline tinderRich palaces of dreams renderedTo which many young locusts aspiredBut Santa Ana winds have burnedThose houses to naught but ashChimneys only gravestones … Continue reading Tinder