The Poonanai Literary Section

Joe Sharpe continued

Escape Attempt

I stole a red brick
From a river floor
Emptiness in it chased me
My legs fleeing bubbles



Slanted servile ill-gotten sophistry
Play on my back with tales of mastery
I'm a Man

Tower bets for trodden drudgery
Dance with your hands on plates of misery
I'm a Man

Buttress cracked, macked and lively
Stopped the leaks with bullet machinery
She's a Man

Wanton woodenness wrecked amenity
Grasped to the last the cleats of liberty
She's a Man

Man had no sex change

Man Ran

Man sucked ether through his nose and understood the plan

Man Ran

Fell through a hole not caught not held not pulled not touched not seen not blushed

Man Ran

A flower caked in mud: prison break in the rain; tottering weak in wind


Man in an Ass Factory

I am a tired scene
Not a used slapped sweaty boxer shot
And sports-broadcaster "oh, he felt THAT one" speech
But just the fading nod and dull ache
Urban noise painting me
The black burned spot-singed mind
The clasped hands measuring my leash
Overhead beaming lights pulsing on
Civic boredom I cannot flee
Knotting my arms and legs
Stealing my wishes for the economy
A soft feather bed to rely on
More restless night's sleep
An evening chair to lounge with
No fire to inspire amenity