todd moore | pure blood primal: the poetry of kell robertson

Cowboy Poet, Kell Robertson, Outside Vesuvio’s Bar, North Beach, San Francisco, 2001, Copyright: A.D. Winans I’m listening to Kell Robertson sing When You Come Down Off The Mountain. His voice sounds like his throat has been sandblasted raw, gravel over Continue reading todd moore | pure blood primal: the poetry of kell robertson