Mark. A Heathcote Biography

When I see the green and red
Of the furnace flames aglow,
And a white dove is rising in the skies.
And those sleek, slender, starving Black-
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The workings of a clock
It can be as mechanical as a stopped heart.
A wingless entity
Naked and caged propelled to flower.
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Give me a woman in a birdcage
Singing like a canary for a kingdom without chains
Singing for a deeper humanity
Flapping her wings like words flung granite stones.
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If I could come back in another life
I'd be more goal-driven.
I'd do better at school.
I'd work harder for sure.
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Hypothetically
I travel to the centre of the universe.
Guessing the circumference of your heart
How a pinhole of light can shine so brightly
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