"Clear off” they said, "no space for beggars, VIP movement is on, move on, move on” So we moved on, and that wasn’t such a problem for we’re the flotsam, the jetsam, the unwanted c/o footpath; we’re the ones with the tangled hair and the red-eyed looks outside Gucci stores hoping for a tenner that’ll get us a tin of shoe-polish that’ll keep the hunger away until you throw away that stale wadapao. No problem, we’ll clear off. This is one half of a tapestry poem with Shernaz Wadia, first published at RateMyLiterature.com . View the full tapestry here . What is tapestry poetry?
The message is supreme;
Born in the heart,
and lilting itself
from tongue to tongue,
throwing its scent
over wind and wave;
travelling on dots
or fingers
when blindness
or silence bar its way.
It hews itself into stone
or burns itself onto magnetic discs;
it is the message that lives
and I exist
solely to pass it on.