This is like an online notebook, this stuff is not finished or often even started properly.

Snowball

Snowball

It popped like a snowball on one of the angles of his pretty face
at the top of the stairs at the regular reggae night we've all throbbed at for years
I told him to prop up the flap
and we stumbled down the stairs after the figure
shaking glass from our cuffs and smearing blood on the bannisters and hinges propelling ourselves forward
he got away
some people said too much to the police and we pinched them and coughed near them
some said too little and they didnt even keep the receipt
all i kept saying was it popped like a snowball
you didnt even blink
still pretty now they tied the flap back in place
all riled up and angry sleepless and buzzing
running our fingers through our hair
cracking our knuckles
flicking bitten finger stubs
in a rhythmic march through the days
not seeing him
thinking you see him everywhere
talking redrum in the sunny park
we don't know him
you don't know him
but he swims in the same pond
and things like this just keep on happening around here.

No comments:

Post a Comment