Words Come Out

Here I read my poem Words Come Out; the backing track contains recordings of a beaten old guitar-zither & a rather tuneful casserole pot from the Wildways kitchen.

I suppose I could have used a picture, quite literally, of words coming out of my mouth; I have plenty of them; but instead I chose this rather wonderful painting by Francisco Goya called Entierro de la Sardina: The Burial of the Sardine.