Lumps and bumps

And worn out trunks

From travelling round. 

Listening to the sound

Of our feet walking together

Over the ground.

Around and around

Encircling over

the same things

Again and again.

Never stopping 

where should we begin.

Round and down

and inside up-

All over this world bellies flop. 

Camel humps and pregnant bumps.

waiting for a potential pop.


Bums that bump and grind

Like lemon rind.