MUD AT THE WALL
thrown by Mary Featherstone
LET THERE BE …
Since words first fell Into the void White noise has swelled in Over seven thousand tongues It peaks and rolls In never ending waves Ordering you to come down here And get fleshed out, manned up Behind some cause
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PALM SUNDAY
The unwanted bray, Uncouth, uncontrolled Erupts from this embarrassment Of an animal in sudden surprise Heads turn, and the butt of derision Plods doggedly unaware Of good grooming and the dignity Of the occasion
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FRACTURE
Noise vandalises quiet Fragments of colour Dislocate and splinter In the heavy air Voices compete For a thin thread Of attention
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