River Ouse News

By Mike Bell Poetry No comments

So the slow-flow
Of the Sussex Ouse,
Is gently drowned
By our discharged loos.

Our need to pee, poo, wipe,
And to flush,
Is plugging the Ouse’s
Natural rush,

Killing the fish,
That we cannot eat,
Poisons swirl,
As we drop the seat.

Guardian article here

Mike Bell Poetry

Mike Bell aims to write 10,000 poems, stick them up here one at a time, and then take a nap. By then he should be about 85 years old and have out-gunned PD, dementia, and the end of days. Possibly. Before the floods and fires. Mike Bell is found working for money as a freelance set designer.

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