SOME people …

I’m not going to dwell on,

nor ever with


the horrible people who have jealously

guarded the happy genius

I once could’ve been, if only they’d seen

their way to

being fair and just.


And just ‘cos they didn’t, my kindness

broke my back: dismantled all

my gentle de-

fences, along the

track that laid my journey

from their place to other;

all the yards of protective

walls and


those envies many which

resigned me, in fact, to injustice’s

terrifying [w]hole.

For the sign that is “w”

is the

letter of my [sur]name: the name I carry

with me despite myself

and all, and

[wh]ich shames me over and over, and

once more

yet again.


An angel outside: a devil in-

doors: I have

fought and battled furiously

without knowing right properly

that battle was actually

already enjoined.


And so I will say,

to the children who popu-

late this earth, whether early

to their birth or over-


their inheritance, do listen to me when

I proclaim your cool birthright:

there is no need to carry the burden

of shame:

of again and again, again

and a

loss …


Nor those hein-


us crimes where father and brother,

where sister and mother,

where cousins between cousins

look only to silence

the beauty of broad seeing, and the

kindness of being that is the man

who bears witness

to himself.

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