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Tuesday, August 27, 2013

THOUGHTS OF A SMALL BOY EATING AN APPLE ON A CROWDED CITY BUS

by Margo Fuke

CRUNCH went my apple
why're they looking at me?
CRUNCH,CRUNCH went my apple
don't they know it's my tea?

Or remains of the dragon
I killed long ago
in a landslide of hunger
in primaeval Bow.

My chin is a sunset
wet shining and red; my mouth
is a graveyard,
corpse bones spewing out.

Folk tumble out headlong
disembowelling my bus
I snarl but keep munching
through the mad exodus

Snagged the driver of course
with my green woollen paws
displaying their armour
and eighteen inch claws

'I've paid, take me home now
or mumma will foam
at the mouth and come hunting.'
He kow-towed with a groan

'Our stop', boomed Mum dragon
my apple a core
she grabbed for my hand
we disembarked through the door.

1 comment:

  1. Hello! I sent an email a few days ago to the hotmail email address, I'm really interested in joining the writing group! :) SJ

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