Marc Gladstone

Not From Around Here, Are You Boy?/Winter

A couple of experimental tunes I did way back in the 90’s, sometime… including a spoken word of one of my poems from back then…


“Venetian mockery segments my prison view… we make our own, it seems

She mumbled something I didn’t understand; honesty, fairplay and commitment… who knows what she was on about

A tree blossoms in afternoon sun… laden branches drip shadows toward my evening

I have no sunlight left.

It doesn’t have to be snowing outside to know the winter in here…”