I.
“Kitten,
You purr right proper,
So lemme hang a proposition
From your ear :
Let’s me and you
Climb upstairs for a tipple.
And after a sip I’ll
Show you where my
Pyjamas
Need mending.”
II.
Iron bars twist like string
Into a headboard; bathwater,
Matte as newsprint,
Screws slowly down the drain.
Grainy newsreel stock,
Soundtrack cracks open
With gunfire. His hand
Grips your thin thigh
Like slow wood
Round a wire tump.
III.
[Slow fade
Like grime spreading grey
Across a window pane.
Music falls.]
IV.
“Baby,
Don’t you know?
You got to wet the string
To thread the needle.”
Showing posts with label Tumps. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Tumps. Show all posts
Tuesday, June 5, 2007
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