Naked,
The amniotic sack of the sea,
All around me,
A vast womb,
And like a baby,
I am safe,
And free,
And I have room,
And space to be
M Joseph Burt (27.6.6)
Born (Low Hanging Fruit)
He was borne on a branch The low hanging fruit Of the curse The bushel that hung from nails Trellising tight stems to the frame Spurs offer...
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I find the cool channels between buildings where the wind finds flow, This breeze block, asphalt, concrete complex, Where the radiance of ...
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When honest becomes your brand, you'd better shut up shop The truth of you for sale, the under hand slides up top, Your candour on dema...
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This master-work of yours, This magnum opus, This poiema, Is sat in his underpants In a neglected and untidy flat, Typing on a laptop he bou...
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