Old Bank Street, Manchester, UK by R.A.D. Stainforth
I want to dance
outside
your dry, sane circle
and get wet
get wet
get wet
I don't belong
here
in your dry, sane circle
you've never
let me
forget
I'm a hayseed
daughter of the fields
I'm a half-breed
no matter how high my heels
I don't need
to be your white man's burden anymore
Dry isn't what the rain is for.
For The Mag
19 comments:
WOWZERS! a killer poem. Horrible to to ever feel like a white man's burden, a beautiful and talented woman like you.
I read this in two different voices in my head: one female, one Mexican and they both words beautifully. Great job, Mama Z.
Nice work. I really liked this.
I'm reeling.
Awesome, MZ!! Totally awesome! Thanks as always for sharing!!
loved this...lets all dance in the rain...x
This is very cool. That last line hits home.
True; it gets dull in the dry, sane circle.
Yup--dry and boring in that little circle--great write!!
O
M
G
Seriously.
good lord woman. Cant decide if you should pump the brakes or full speed ahead. haha
Particularly great close, MZ -!and just terrific rhythm throughout. Actually great beginning too! M.
There are two kinds of people in this world , make that four , wets and drys // cornfeds and grassfeds !
Psssst! I've got a hundred bucks if you'll tell me your secret for CONTINUALLY writing these freakin' amazing poems. Cash! xo
Okay this really really needs to be set to music...
I love this poem, especially the opening.
so cool ~
so cool ~
Raw and emotional ...flows like a piece of spoken word..
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