THE GREEN WORD
grows inside me, it wants to kick me out of the nest
it is a cuckoo, calling its name
& a nightingale, it says
look poet get real, the green word
has roots & wings & jewels of fire
& stones from the field on which we trip
& say shit, they are
expensive because
she wants to have them all, the green word
is my daimon, my genius, my soul
it farts in my face, saying Be Not Rude
the green word mothers
me but will never
never never never smother
it grows inside me
like a tree, like a child
You need to be a member of UNCIVILISATION: The Dark Mountain Network to add comments!
Join UNCIVILISATION: The Dark Mountain Network