Grudge Music

Deaf, blind granite block content to graze with familiar stock. A local

Lard not an english black, we don't venture into the fog. Homeward bound and

Gagged not twenty steps from the door. Dispensable as cooks at sea or

Journalists sent to war. No one found me spellbinding, no one offered me a

Drink. But by crippled hands at the potters wheel, I was given shape and