Poem
Joseph Horgan
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All the houses on our street are upside downand people fly above the chimneys.
They are falling
in to the sky.
They are not from here anyway.
Not one of them is from here anyway.
Who is from here anyway?
The people in the sky are falling up,
in to India, Pakistan, Ghana, Nigeria,
St. Kitts and Ireland.
They are landing on their heads.
They are from here everyway.
Every one of them is from here someway.
Where is from here anyway?
All the streets near our house are downside up
and chimneys fly above the people.
They are sky
and they are flying.
© 2014, Joseph Horgan
From: The Year I Loved England
Publisher: Pighog, Brighton
From: The Year I Loved England
Publisher: Pighog, Brighton
Poems
Poems of Joseph Horgan
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All the houses on our street are upside downand people fly above the chimneys.
They are falling
in to the sky.
They are not from here anyway.
Not one of them is from here anyway.
Who is from here anyway?
The people in the sky are falling up,
in to India, Pakistan, Ghana, Nigeria,
St. Kitts and Ireland.
They are landing on their heads.
They are from here everyway.
Every one of them is from here someway.
Where is from here anyway?
All the streets near our house are downside up
and chimneys fly above the people.
They are sky
and they are flying.
From: The Year I Loved England
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