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Knock, knock.

Knock, knock.

Who’s there?

Why? Do you care?

Knock knock. 

Block the rock. 

Rock the block. 

Do you dare?

Do you dare to care?

Do care to dare to care?

Care you here?
Care you there?
Care you everywhere?
Or where?

Or anywhere?

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Knock. Knock.

Too too many!

At my gate!

They’ll all rush in 

Let them wait!

We can’t let others crash our cash.

We can’t let any crack or gash.

Knock, knock.

No-one’s home so go away.

Come again some other year.
Come to yet another gate.

Where you can wait. 

You can wait

Another decade.

Perhaps our guilt will fade.

If we never have to see their face.

If we never have to grant them grace.

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You’re not like us so go away.

Come again another day. 

Another year.

Another tear. 

Another decade. 

Another time. 

Become a whiter tone as well. 

You don’t belong 

You sing a different song. 

You eat a different meal. 

You cannot share our deal. 

We fought long and hard to take

This land

From savages who had no gun. 

So how could they be good?

For good God’s sake!

They made their things of wood!

Such a primitive band!

Who stood in the way of progress and steel!

Good God! They didn’t even have the wagon wheel! 

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Knock. Knock. 

It is the sound 

Sounding all around. 

The sound of islanders whose

Islands are no more. 

It is the sound of 

It is the sound of

An echo 

A reverberating shot

I think:

I’ve got mine 

So, hell with thine.

The savages didn’t even fell each tree

To farm the land more easily. 

Knock! Knock!

It’s louder now. 

A pileated woodpecker 

A tree wrecker. 

A double decker

Bus and train and sandwich stack.

Busted brain plays whacky shack. 

I need more gold.

I need less cold. 

I will not fold

My life in half to share

I do not dare to care 

For others 

Born of other mothers

Dark of skin 

Who undoubtedly sin. 

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It is the sound 

Of the ground 

Of the Ice

Of the Sky.

So busy building scrapers

And tanks

So busy building 

Tankers and tanks

So busy building 

Machines that can kill

We destroyed all the krill

Filled our ground with plastic fill.

And therefore killed the seas.

We’re spreading disease. 

And all our —

Hold on! Someone’s knocking at the door.

No-one important I should say.

They are dressed all in black. 

Little more than a formless sack.

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They are knocking as we speak. 

Guy looks like a freak

Holding … what the hell … a scythe?


I always meant to tithe. 

That was fast.

Pearly gates at last. 

I’m knocking knocking at the door. 

Knock. Knock. 

Knocking at the door. 

The days and nights 

The darks and lights.

Extend into infinity. 

No-one seems to hear my knock. 

No-one seems to hear my call 

Or see my bloodied hands.
Or care or know I’m here at all. 

I can hear the music of celestial bands. 

Distant, faint, behind the sheer and rocky wall. 

But no-one seems to care at all. 

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As Gold as it Gets

A Horror Story

Hot Dog

Donnie’s Final Gift

How the Nightingale Learned to Sing

Dance of Billions

After All

The Crows and Me


Roar Ocean Roar