Dan Morton Poems

The dawn chorus woke me
this morning, a host of beaks
singing their bird hearts out.
Hearts no bigger than pennies
...

If you were a bird
would you live
in a cage?
...

You didn't even have to say

no.
...

The waves have claws that rake the shingle and worry
the rotting defences. The wind pushes and pulls
with hands of drowned sailors reaching for shore
...

Darryl sits alone in a rotting flat

mixing red wine and Frosty Jack
...