A gift of a bird […]



A gift of a bird is not
Taken lightly, nor can it be
Taken back: it is almost
Theft; yet this ruffled lark

Is mine now, I have stolen
Its grace and its name
For my own. I will take its
Wing to fly with, and leave

You in solitary, where you
Would like to stay, as I
Instead reach a greater height
Than I should have without it.


Any town will do.

Any town will do, any one at all […]

Any town will do.

Any town will do, any one at all
All stucco pebbledash concrete
All smoking pipes at breakfast
Any town will do

Any town will stand against the wind
Of lunchtime disaster flood
Of can’t-get-home-it’s-raining
Any town will stand

Any town could be my home
It’s kind of quiet here kind of
It’s kind of boring here kind of
Any town could be

Any town is less than zero
Add up the hours add up the
Add up the days add up the
Any town is less

Any town is quite the beacon
Fulgent dual carriageways at night
Fulgent words in void of light
Any town is quite

Any town I have visited, any one at all
All overcharg’d and oversex’d
All broken hearts and living wrecks
Any town I have

Any town will do, any one at all
All wrong song wrong time wrong face
All birdcage sings at crack of doom
Any town will do.