I travelled by land, did not come by sea, I wasn’t carried by the rippled surface you see today. I slowly walked here a long way following a trail, footprints in the sticky black earth. A syllable by keratin, indentation made in the search for food and water, the edges already crumbling. Nothing was wasted, I made a hunting weapon out of antler bone, Soft skin protected me. We were together, I grateful. All this was mine and it wasn’t an easy life, but I was free to walk where I wanted to and I was full, until the earth shook and the land cursed me, with bruise-coloured water, cold, dark, but not without life. Until I learned new uses for skin, salt settled on me like a sheet. Then I was full again. I was free to float where I wanted to.
I hope you like this new poem I’m sharing with you today. I’m considering this poem as the opening poem in my new book that is coming out in the summer of next year. The book is going to be called Thrutopia, after the term coined by philosopher Rupert Read in an article published on the Huffington Post UK website in 2017.
Tender Rebellion 