The Unspoken Word | Jim Bellamy
It’s an unspoken word at the base of the brain that everybody deserves
just what they constrain; an unspoken word that children suffer time: O
it happens world over, but no-one seems to mind.
It’s an unspoken word in
the centre of the dust that each of us perverts just what consoles our
lust; an unspoken word that misery is fine: O it happens world over, but
no-one seems to mind.
It’s an unspoken word in the swirling of the sun
that nothingness accords just what we’ve never done; an unspoken word that
life is merely crime: O it happens world over, but no-one seems to mind.
It’s an unspoken word in the wastelands of the womb that everyone is
stirred by the madness of the moon; an unspoken word that tyranny must
shine: O it happens world over, but no-one seems to mind.
It’s an unspoken
word, a deadly word between us all that emptiness conserves our only
clarion call; an unspoken word that poets seldom rhyme: O it happens world
over, but no-one seems to mind.
i espy time?
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