Mathew Bourne's Swan Lake

Mathew Bourne’s Swan Lake




Angels do

fall from heaven

hard on the concrete floor

kicked out, sent out

banished from its pearly white gates


beautiful as she walks

no sign or trace

of wounds and bruises

on her mint human figure

she smiles: a twisted pearly white grin


playing cupid

-for herself

and every man she fancies

making love

like an ostrich (she no longer has wings)


but humans do

fall from the earth

down the layers

of molten rock

to where you now belong



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