Here you will find the Poem t doesnt look like a finger... of poet Hugh Sykes Davies
It doesn?t look like a finger it looks like a feather of broken glass It doesn?t look like something to eat it looks like something eaten It doesn?t look like an empty chair it looks like an old woman searching in a heap of stones It doesn?t look like a heap of stones it looks like an estuary where the drifting filth is swept to and fro on the tide It doesn?t look like a finger it looks like a feather with broken teeth The spaces between the stones are made of stone It doesn?t look like a revolver it looks like a convolvulus It doesn?t look like a living convolvulus it looks like a dead one KEEP YOUR FILTHY HANDS OFF MY FRIENDS USE THEM ON YOUR BITCHES OR YOURSELVES BUT KEEP THEM OFF MY FRIENDS The faces between the stones are made of bone It doesn?t look like an eye it looks like a bowl of rotten fruit It doesn?t look like my mother in the garden it looks like my father when he came up from the sea covered in shells and tangle It doesn?t look like a feather it looks like a finger with broken wings It doesn?t look like the old woman?s mouth it looks like a handful of broken feathers or a revolver buried in cinders The faces beneath the stones are made of stone It doesn?t look like a broken cup it looks like a cut lip It doesn?t look like yours it looks like mine BUT IT IS YOURS NOW SOON IT WILL LOOK LIKE YOURS AND ANYTHING YOU SEE WILL BE USED AGAINST YOU