Read Poem: SUNDAY, by WP Newnham

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at sea Sunday

with easterlies predicted

but easy 15 knotters with

my gun crew of old school

and new- my old girl is ready

and welcomes me back with arms

out-stretched in a cornucopia of harvest

 

sea birds call to me at the wharf and

riding easterly winds, they glide all geo-

stationary looking me in the eye saying

 

FAAAARRRRKKKKKKKKK

 

WHERE U BEEEEEEEEEENNNNNNNN!!!!!!!!

 

FFFFFFFFFAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRKKKKKKKKKKKKK

 

I GOTTA A FUCKEN FAMILY TO FEED YOU KNOW!

 

FAAAARRRRKKKKKKKKK

 

they wait for me

and the harvest is at the birds!

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Submitters reactions to their feedback on their stories. New testimonials coming each month! Watch this month's winning readings. At least 15 performances a month: www.wildsoundfestival.com Submit your script, story, poem, or film to the festival today: www.wildsound.ca

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