layered in air
we dance with glass
small souls with small lives
to the challenges
she says you know we do not gets what we want
we gets what we get
ours has been much easier than so many others
*listen to the radio
they threw them all on the fire
sounds rather current
except this guy got caught
before the damage
i have just been advised/
he had hoped to be interred at
he was not sure if it existed yet
it was decided to cut him up to kill him
put his head on a spike
up his neck/
that was bombed too
bombs are nasty things/
those books, that music.
rises. zadok was a priest.
here again we have
your brother killed him.
some of us know why.
the lady with the blue umbrella
is merely a road sign, remember.
until we walk over and find there
is not one.
had difficulty sleeping, thinking.
of you all.
thinking of you all.
all who are ill,
i went on the bus, saw the mud
from the festival. talked to you
who got lost and fed the homeless.
read some road signs elsewhere.
critical. some things are not for sale.
not about money
critical. heard things
you disliked. they
saved your life
critical and difficult
on all sides. it is not
a competition, we shall
not paint it white. the
bless thee and paste the words.
oxblood does not offend me, unlike
your rantings, protestations.; words continue.
bless thee, pray your maggots
while we pick out the remains.
days continue with blessings
while the thoughts that this is not personal
so i will continue to raise tickets on your befalf
blessings on your house,
those who kill your sisters.
it is not as you would think, sir. it is
blessings on your house, those that
ignore the fact.
i use you.
blind you, hash tag
you had a clean shirt
ready for after the bomb fell.
dug within for strength, without for vegetables.
tidy allotments for food. primroses came by post; my father.
war was declared before me.
they said that some hid in outside toilets to avoid the bombs. there were hits in bournemouth.
some dads dug deep for shelter in the garden. anderson, half buried. flower beds planted with veg.
peace times, families stored their potatoes , rather than waste. rationing continued.
i remember the implications, was told the facts later.
the war house & after.
we dig within for solidity, solidarity, power to continue. food is plenty.
in wales find they grew potatoes here. i have a photograph.
I still hide under tables.
i dream i dream of porcupines.
white feathers dipped in blood.
bloody mess wars,
bodies rotting there. there
are thoughts while stitching that
this could save the world.
a quiet thing. no injuries, the blood
comes small in useful drops.
drops down, meditative sound.
white feathers fall.
i did not know when you started.
about the socks, how
they are not made to last.
about those you were wearing
for five years. i did not wish
to see your leg sir.
about the chamois leathers, how
we used to have more variety.
which brought him to talk
about hand car wash. by
foreigners. his words not
insisted that they deliberately
scratch the cars, then turn their guns,
these foreigners. his words not mine.
i left, i am not paid to listen to your racist
i am paid to weave and serve another day.
he left without buying.
look at the actor,acting that the arms hurts
to help with self diagnosis.
it will be ok if we have paper to write
wait for news of those that are dying, have died
we may still have paper.
to draw on.
read the news and watch the radio, we can keep
up to date through the publications
if they have paper to print on.
she said she has heard #stories. thrice.
i think you find, madam, it is #reality.
report that they shouted coward.
do not mention the word
we heard it. all of us.
grow naturally here. it is a wild garden
not as big as yours. surrounds me.
i like the colour amongst the green, while
having no photo again.i say cut me quick
stab me clean.
there are no razors , only scissors.
i cannot spell. i can think.
i can imagine a nuclear
read the books, seen the footage.
before you speak.