CRIMSON


Spring into step and look smart!
Said the mother to the son
Oh bother, said the son, ‘smart, fart’

Why should I spring? When I’d rather dance
Out here on the streets, it might be my last chance
To pirouette with aplomb…

BANG! A BOMB.

Don’t blame me I am only a boy
Who loves nothing better than to dance with joy
How was I to know your mission?
Look! Now my shirt is crimson
Like the rambutangs that the vendors sell.

OH God, another day in hell.

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4 comments on “CRIMSON

  1. Of a piece with ‘What Remains’. Good to write it; good to read it. Keep thinking about your here and now and I’ll keep reading. I look forward to the days when the mood lifts.

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