of your loss –
a double for old Joe here –
I heard you found her?
Yeah, in the kitchen
Joe jabbing
the glass at his face. Stiff
upper lip. Stifle the details.
Her: slumped like a sigh,
blue eyeshadow and festering veg
a harmonica wail
of colour clanging
against her husky skin.
Here in the desert of family pics
she chopped to plug the gaping saucepan
at the end of her production line.
blue eyeshadow and festering veg
a harmonica wail
of colour clanging
against her husky skin.
Here in the desert of family pics
she chopped to plug the gaping saucepan
at the end of her production line.
Humped on the table,
by a homely spray of half-chopped
spring-onions, her fingers
loosely sheathed the knife.
But she’d left
before she’d finished slicing
her womb into manageable pieces,
so it still sat, fat, at her right hand.
Joe knew she nursed,by a homely spray of half-chopped
spring-onions, her fingers
loosely sheathed the knife.
But she’d left
before she’d finished slicing
her womb into manageable pieces,
so it still sat, fat, at her right hand.
in the pouch of her pinny,
where no one had thought to look
or listen,
the black hole that’d hidden
the gun he didn’t press to her head.
Sure, you’ll get over it
clapping Joe on the back.
02/06/01
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