Confined Spaces Poem by David Harris

I tend to write and I don’t know why
in confined spaces wherever I am.
My desk is filled with odds and sods
giving no more than
about six inches to write within.
Sometimes I write parked in my car
sitting behind the steering wheel.
Its not that I write better
sitting like a shrivelled up prune,
it is just that they are the only spaces
I can get my writing down.
In a confined space somewhere.

31 January 2008