Worked with producer of Good Morning Britain commissioned for work with Prince Charles #HecticEpileptic
Tuesday, 24 March 2015
Boxing club
The boxer jeers as crowds roar
To heights
There's Irish dancing in
His sight
A dizzying jig
A thrust of hip
A lazy man
Now slowly dips
Fight my fears
And all my tears
The yesterday's
That never belonged to me
The loss of rhythm
The ghouls can see
As I inch away
From your fading moon
Catch your blood
With one teaspoon
Then howl the sun
Horizon
Poison
Where citrus fell
The golden
Ones plummet
Straight to he'll
They run thick hands
Through clotted hair
Dig hands in pocket
That go nowhere
As time a birch
She laughs and
Claps
For sheep's to burden
As bags of sap
There's nothing here
No dreams for you
As ticking clock
Relies it's truth
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