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Fire under footfall.Fire over skies.
Fire on a matchstick.Fire in my eyes.
Fire holding hunger.Fire seeking wood.
Fire hiding danger.Fire feeling good.
How many books have you written?Have you been writing for years?Where do you get all the paper?Where do you get your ideas?
We goin' on a school trip today,De whole class goin' to Whitney Bay,Ah teckin' me ball an' bat with meTo play beach cricket, an' let me see,
'On buses and trains you wouldn't believeThe crazy things that passengers leave:
A pair of crutches, I kid you not,Hot-waterbottle, full but no longer hot
A stranger called this morningDressed all in black and greyPut every sound into a bagAnd carried them away
A poem is not an Antbut it can be quite short.A poem is not a Bananabut there may be something under its skin.A poem is not a Coat
In the beginning was the wordand the word is ours:
the names of places,the names of flowers,the name of names,words are ours.