A big relief

A big relief Nothing to do! No work to look forward to None to talk to! Engaged only with my lines My words, a pack of useless lies This now my affair A little unfair huh? I think I must die Ha ha ha No courage to decide To end my life, to commit suicide. The woods are lovely dark

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The Day the Beach Filled Up

The day the beach filled up Dunthorne munched liquorice, wiping sugar into corduroy.   Mackenzie bought staples in bulk, losing dozens down the radiator as he sat all morning tiring the springs of his hole-puncher.   Wright lay still in a coat, chilli sauce on his lip, throat a mousetrap.   Penlington paused at the mirror, deciding on a moustache.

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My dreams

  My dreams, Lying on the shore Unfulfilled pebbles. My myopic eyes Don’t recognize, Cannot own Any one stone. Those black jewels Which could once see The horizon at night, The hilltop through the fog Are screeching for vision. ‘They’re not what you see They’re diamonds! Whether scattered On the beach, Drowned in the mines Yet to be found, Adorning

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Roles matter

Roles matter When you write your lines I become a reader You bring them to life With your tunes Humming in the air, I become a listener. You sing to me stories Of successes and failures Of families and histories Of joys and woes, Your world of words Makes me a follower. For all these roles I play I’m indebted

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