Here's an angry, sketchy poem I recently read out at a monthly writers' group I started going to. I think it was liked. Another poem will be posted tomorrow, so check back for more!
Why shouldn't we
Place our places well,
Lay out sheets of space
Amid expensive, precious rubble?
- oh go on, stand it up,
keep that lamp to,
pass those small crystal dolphins,
the paper fan can hang by it.
Outside, why should we
Solve our own riddles
With bulldozers
Knocking out
Bases and roots -
stand that tree down,
wipe out its lip,
let rip all
but stay off the pavement!
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