Last updated on November 14, 2023
words by barbara doduk
6.
and
with a rush
over the inside out
the point was made
without much more
and the fuss was to begin
with all that stuff
over who is who
and what owns what
and
the argumentative combat zone
sheltered edges
razors length
of cold shots fired at the armour shield
blood shed over the
who was feeling the what
and the when
of the where
of the how of it all
and
morning rose her ugly head
and spat out the death
the foetal nine month
mourning baby
cry
we all wept
an angle angel crossed her tightrope of stone
and my head went rolling off the block like queens
of loveless marriages
past
present
future dreams
and
then more came news of past infidelity
infertile mouse
trapped in his metal band without care
without thought
or judgement
left stale
plastic paled
the sunshine grew tall trees
with pathetic lies
and
final round bell dinged
over the fearless sound of tomorrow
the drowning file stuffed fat
with paper contradictions
overflowed
with some cash cow king sucking my life
draining me of soul
and leaving me empty
and
in end the buried fool
killed the clown himself
over the embers
the remaining lingering smoke
the end was here
and this was all I had left
a pale line outline
left-hand ring-finger,