Tag Archives: memory

A Mother and a Daughter

As she was going she

went back to those

childhood woods where she

could hide for hours and

be naughty but you

resented your absence from a

world where you

weren’t conceived or

even imagined.

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Just Words

Kind words sink silently into the

memory-sponge of the walls but

harsh words carom around the house

forever, their cockroach-carapaces

impossible to crack.

GIF

Do you know you are a GIF in
someone’s Performance Art? The
gold in your blue uniform glittering in
old sun, your hot-pants emphasising your
long dark legs, your
silver batons never quite
twirled above your
shy smile.

But then we are all a GIF in
someone’s mind, some moment
burnt, looped in the soul, some
mannerism eternally annoying, some
gesture that caught in the throat, a
split second when the mask slipped, and
your face cracked open with a
shy smile.

The Twentieth Century in a Pub

When all was said and done, the

corpse-candles burnt out and their

greasy puddles, their

smeared existence, scrapped from

calvaries and cenotaphs leaving them

pristine and exiguous and somehow

forgotten, I suppose I shouldn’t be so

outraged by that cap-badge, the

hammer and sickle aslant within a

five-pointed star, but

dead people by their millions keep

nudging my arm, shaking my resolve and

spilling my beer.

Seeing Red

The first time I knew I could kill

was after school in my

grammar school blazer—

bright blue, red rag

in the roughest part of my

rough town where it was a

personal insult to want

to escape.

 

Each night I was chased by

some gang or another, but

I could outrun them, my heart

keeping time with my legs,

each day distilling that

drip drip of fear, resentment and

hate until it was a

pure vial of vitriol.

 

So there’s that day when one boy

outruns his friends but

they’ve given up and

he’s alone and God

he was surprised when I turned and

grabbed his throat, for

I was fit and strong and

he was not.

 

I raised my fist and watched him cower

all mouth and no trousers suddenly

and my heart was pounding

do it do it do it do it do it

and I wanted to I wanted to so bad

I could taste his pasty blood

bursting from his ratty face on my

metronomic knuckles.

 

Instead I dropped him, ran for home,

kept running, ran to Championships,

ran beyond the tape, keep running away from

the first time I knew I could kill.

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