The Junk Book: Of Jimmy Quentin, poet maudit of the Q-tips: down and out in Nineties London

This title is printed to order. This book may have been self-published. If so, we cannot guarantee the quality of the content. In the main most books will have gone through the editing process however some may not. We therefore suggest that you be aware of this before ordering this book. If in doubt check either the author or publisher’s details as we are unable to accept any returns unless they are faulty. Please contact us if you have any questions.

Inside the drowned man, Hobbes found the whale. Inside the whale, Hobbes found nothing but junk.

***

Among the cardboard boxes and bin-liners, outside a restaurant called perplexingly Le Chat Noir, someone had dumped a manikin, which appeared to have been super-glued with angel wings.

A large black dog or possibly werewolf springs and snaps off its head. In the ghoulish celebration of the dismemberment of the manikin there is in fact no blood, just the crunching of prosthetic limbs.

Here in the junkyard it is often like this - moments of violence and high strangeness, followed by hours of what seems futile wandering.

***

Was it the junk that made him creep? Or something itching at his soul? No matter, there was no solution other than to trigger the gun. - On the brink of fame and fortune, Jimmy Quentin, poet maudit of the Q-tips, leaves it all behind and takes to the streets where his life continues to spiral out of control.