HULL IS NOT A FIELD (a.k.a. One Last Poem Before Halloween Stuff)

Hull is not a field.

Ships are not made of grass.

You can’t pierce the shell of a branch of study.

You can’t remove the outer rind of a sports venue.

East Riding is not an open land.

Well perhaps.

Arguably.

Maybe it is.

To an extent,

Hull could be a field.